


Amity 2014

by WhatDoesTheFauxSay



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: 9 Years Later, Aged-Up Character(s), Danny is Vlad's Son, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatDoesTheFauxSay/pseuds/WhatDoesTheFauxSay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is 2014. Vlad married Maddie, in this world; their son, Daniel, has become the scion of Vlad's life's work, the Masters Corporation. By a twist of fate, Sam Manson has become the CEO of a rival company— a company where a certain Jack Fenton works, still obsessed with ghosts. When Vlad sends Danny to spy on his business rival, events will spiral into a full-scale corporate war— and Amity Park, and Danny's life, will never be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scrollingdown](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=scrollingdown).



> This story takes place in an alternate universe, where Vlad married Maddie, and their son (Daniel) has never met Sam and Tucker. However, Daniel still has ghost powers. Everyone's also 9 years older than in canon. 
> 
> For more info on the AU and detailed introductions to the characters, go to:  
> http://whatdoesthefauxsay.tumblr.com/post/75753152421/new-danny-phantom-au-adult-au

**Amity Park - Night**

Samantha Manson— Sam for short— clung to the outside of the Masters Tower. A thin ledge ran around the back half of the 55th floor, the side without the panoramic view.

"I've never seen you jump out a window to avoid someone before," her friend Tucker Foley said in her ear. The earpiece was disguised as one of her earrings; Tucker himself was a block away.

"You mean the McSwains?" Sam asked. "They're worse than my _parents!_ " She shook her head, tried not to look down. A gentle breeze ruffled the hem of her evening gown. The ledge was only wide enough for her to stand and hang on.

"Oh, right, your I-only-want-true-friends thing," Tucker said over the link. "How's that been workin' out for you?"  
"Hey!" said Sam. "Focus! 23-year-old-not-a-socialite on the side of a _building_ up here!"  
"Oh, right," said Tucker. "Okay. You want to work your way towards and behind the MASTERS sign. There's a catwalk behind the sign, so once you've got there you won't have to worry about falling for a little while." After a second, he added, "Nice view up there, by the way."  
  
Tucker was right; it _was_ a nice view. Amity Park's skyline stretched out through the urban core, skyscrapers slowly stepping down and merging into shops and apartments. The Masters Building towered over it all, a pillar of light in an ocean of flitting stars.

Sam couldn't enjoy the view. Slowly, taking every step deliberately, she sidled to her left. The skyscraper's corner was coming up; edging further, she felt only air under her left hand. She'd have to make her way around the turn, without overcompensating and falling into the night.  
Only now did Sam realize she didn't have a good way to _see_ her footing.

Sam took a deep breath, bringing her left arm in until she could grab the tower's corner itself. She could feel the darkened glass against her back, smooth, daring her to slide just that bit too far. Bracing herself as best she could, she inched her left boot until she felt it slide back.  
Now, it was just a matter of turning the corner.

Sam shifted her arm, switching from grabbing the angle to bending her arm around it. She'd examined the route a week ago. There was a gap between panes of glass on this side. If she could get her fingers in, she'd be safe.

The corner now pressed against her back. Carefully, Sam reached out for the gap. Once she was on the other side of the corner, the catwalk would be just a few feet away.  
Her hands brushed glass. The gap was too far for her to grab. Sam shifted her weight, leaning into the corner that last bit more. She just—

She'd leaned too far. Her right foot slipped. In a panic, she grabbed for the gap— _found it—_ her right arm flailed, felt air— she couldn't breathe— she was falling— _she was falling—_  
  
After a split second of freakout, Sam managed to recover. Drawing her leg in, she stomped down, hoping to find the ledge. She found it; a last-minute grab on the corner stopped her from pitching forward.  
Breathing hard, feeling her adrenaline drain, Sam held on and watched the city lights as her pulse slowed.

\----

"Uh, are you OK?" Tucker called over the link. "You sound a little out of breath."  
"Tucker..." Sam said back, between gasps, "shut up."  
"If you say so," Tucker said cheerily; then, he did.

Once she was calm again, Sam looked to her left. The catwalk was just a few feet away, blocked at this end by a waist-height railing to prevent an incautious worker from falling. After sidling over the distance, Sam wrapped her arm around the railing, pulling herself over it and onto the thin bridge. The glow from the MASTERS sign lit the path ahead of her; her first hurdle was done.

"I'm on the catwalk," Sam called. "Where now?"  
"Juuuust a moment," said Tucker. The sound of a computer keyboard came through her earpiece. "If I'm reading this blueprint right, you want to go to the other end of the catwalk. Then, the signal's coming from the lab, two floors down."

"There's a ladder, or something there... right?" she asked.  
"Nope!" Tucker said proudly. "I'll tell you when you get there."  
Sam grimaced, then walked to the other end of the sign, behind the giant letter S.  
"Well?"

"Okay," Tucker said. "Have a look down the side of the building."  
Sam looked. A wave of smooth glass came into view, reflecting the neon ocean.  
One pane stuck out. A window, angled outwards to give the room inside some air. If someone fell down the side of the building, the window _could_ conceivably act like a funnel.  
"Oh no. _No_ way. You cannot _possibly_ want me to drop down into that thing."

"Hey," said Tucker. "You _could_ always turn around and head back to the party. Which would you say is worse? The McSwains, or a 20-foot drop down the side of a skyscraper?"  
There was a long silence. Finally, Sam said, "All right. You're _sure_ about this?"  
"One hundred percent," Tucker replied. "You just need to fall straight down, then the window'll do the rest. There's nothing that can possibly go wrong."

It was this or nothing. Sam mentally consigned Tucker's head to oblivion, levered herself over the tower-side catwalk railing, and fell.

\----

It was like flying, for about a second. Then, Sam crashed into the window— and the bar holding the pane up gave way. Sam shrieked, grabbing onto the upper edge of the window pane as it swung outwards. Everything was a blur of gravity... then she stopped.

Sam looked up. She was hanging onto the window frame with her arms. Only its bottom hinge kept the window attached to the building. Some metallic groaning noises hinted that wouldn't be for long.

She looked down next.  
 _It's beautiful_ , she thought. Below was the glowing void, as Amity Park's inhabitants went about their nightly business. Here was the actual Amity Park, a dark spot in the lightscape; there was the old Axion building, before the Masters Corporation had bought them out. If she squinted, Sam could even see her old high school, its lights dimmed as its teachers went home.  
The wind had gotten stronger. The hinge creaked a little as metal gave way. It would have been poignant, if her life wasn't at stake.

"Sam! Are you OK?" Tucker called. "What happened?" He'd heard the shriek too.  
"What happened?! I— the nothing-can-possibly-go-wrong _window_ broke! If I..."  
She stopped. Above her, in the room she'd been trying to enter, the room lights had come on.  
"Someone's here," she said, looking up at the square of light. Footsteps drifted through the open window. They were getting closer, perhaps attracted by the sudden breeze. Then... whoever-it-was looked out the window.

"Ah, Ms. Manson! What a pleasant surprise!" said the man, gazing benevolently down at Sam. She groaned.  
There, above her, was the smiling, grey-framed face of **Vlad Masters.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Masters Tower - Night  
**

Sam, hanging by her hands from the broken window, could only listen as Vlad stared down at her and the 55-story drop below.  
"How _nice_ to meet you here!" said Vlad, with a little chuckle. He leaned his elbow on the window frame, causing the hinge to groan even more. "I'd no idea you enjoyed climbing on the outsides of buildings."

Sam rolled her eyes. She didn't dare move; the hinge creaked on the slightest sway. "Eh, the party was getting boring," she said, trying to sound calm. Mr. Masters was acting rather... erratically.  
Vlad spread his hands wide, smiling. "Oh, there's no need to worry!" he said. "I used to climb buildings myself, when I was younger." Vlad closed his eyes, as if remembering something. "It made me feel so... _alive._ "  
  


_Just keep pretending you're bored,_ Sam thought. _It's probably safest._   
Out loud, she said "Uh, yeah. Do you think you could let me up? Your tower's pretty tall."  
"Of course!" said Vlad. He reached down, extending his arm out the window. "Take my hand."  
Sam shifted her grip— and the window gave way.

Sam shrieked again. With all the focus she had, she grabbed for Vlad's wrist.  
The window pane fell into the night, reflecting the city lights. It flashed a dozen colors, red, green, blue, white, orange, yellow... and then shattered as it hit the pavement.  
Sam didn't go with it. She'd caught Vlad's hand in a death grip.

"Now, Samantha," said Mr. Masters, above her, "close your eyes."  
"Wait, what?" she said. Why was he asking for that? Now?!  
Vlad smiled and waited politely; after a few seconds with no response, Sam closed her eyes. She didn't have anything to lose right now.

For a second, it felt like she was floating in midair; then, a solid floor was beneath her. Gravity had changed from a menace back to a friend. She opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry about the scare," said Vlad, smiling warmly. "So! To make up for it..." He waved a hand. Through all the room, the lights shifted from dim to full brightness.  
"Welcome to my lab," Vlad Masters said.

——

Sam gawked. The room was full of equipment, half-built-devices, and parts. Everything sparkled, except when it was artfully strewn with debris instead.  
Tucker spoke up, in her ear. "Oh wow. I've got your video feed back, and this is _incredible!_ He's got stuff we don't have!"

"Tell me about it," Sam said quietly. If Vlad figured out her jewelry was recording everything for posterity, she and Tucker were both sunk.

"Tell you about it?" Vlad asked. "Ah, I see it's piqued your curiosity. This lab is but one of several in the building. This one usually has a staff of scientists on duty, in the daytime. The more interesting stuff is in the basement, of course, but there's less of a view..."

While Vlad prattled on, Sam quietly and _internally_ gave a sigh of relief. She'd almost slipped up there.  
Tucker decided to take the time to comment.   
"Sam? Okay. The signal from the prototype's coming from this floor. I think it's more towards your left from where you are now. Try and see if you can get closer."  
  
Sam had enough sense not to respond to Tucker, this time. The lab was fairly impressive by itself, and looking around revealed even more rooms branching off from the first one.

"—So," said Vlad, "now that you've seen this corner of my lab, how about the rest? You did say my party was boring, after all."

Gently, Vlad put his arm around Sam's waist and started to lead her towards the next room. Sam dodged out of the grip.  
"Um, _not_ until the second date!"   
Tucker's advice compelled her to add, "I'd like to see the rest of the lab, though."  
  
"Of course. My _sincere_ apologies," said Vlad, with a mild bow. "Please, follow me."  
There were more rooms. There were more machines. There were strange things beyond description. There were strange things Vlad described. And with every turn they took, Tucker radioed that the prototype was getting closer. Soon, the halls led to a circular chamber right in the center of the 53rd floor.

——

The room was walled with lacquered wood, lit by warm track lighting. It didn't look like it belonged in a lab... and all around the wall were doors. "This," said Vlad, "is where I keep all the wonderful things produced in the Masters Tower." After a moment, he added, "This lab's wonderful things, at least." He flung open a door.

In the center of the room was a... thing. A large, blocky device. Only the projected black cube 'floating' above it hinted at the machine's real purpose.  
"Recently, some of my top researchers discovered a few little tricks with bending light. This one's not quite ready for production yet," —for a split second, the cube was an eye-melting multidimensional superstructure—"but, with a little help, I'm sure you'll see something using this technology in a few years..."

Vlad kept explaining his lab's creations, giving Tucker an opportunity to call. He sounded _very_ excited.  
"Sam! The signal's coming from the direction third door on the right, and it's _really_ strong. I think it's right on the other side of the door!"

Time to recover her prototype. Nodding at Vlad's speech, Sam pretended to choose a door at random. "What's behind this one?" she asked brightly, trying the handle of the third door on the right.  
It was locked.

"Ah-ah!" said Vlad, as Sam found the door handle wouldn't budge. "I can't reveal _all_ my secrets... well, not yet, anyway." There was a little chuckle in his voice. "Who knows? When the time comes, you might find something behind that door you've always wanted."

He winked. Sam suddenly realized he wasn't looking at her face. More a bit... down and to the right, at her evening gown.  
Straight at the skull brooch that hid the camera.  
When Vlad noticed her looking, he looked back up into Sam's face, smiled, and gave a little shrug.

It took a second, but she got it. _He'd known the whole time.  
_ Vlad Masters had known, or guessed, why Sam was hanging on the outside of his skyscraper (not too hard a surmise, to be sure), then saved her, shown her through the lab, and brought her here— only to mock her with a locked door.

Sam unclenched her teeth, controlled her breath, and affected a smile.   
"Thank you for showing me everything here," she said, keeping herself tense. It was that or yell at Vlad. Let him think she didn't know he knew. "It was _very_ informative." That was true, at least.

"The pleasure was all mine," Vlad responded. "I only hope I have the opportunity to tour your own research hub someday."   
He gestured towards the way back. "Shall we return to my 'boring, uninteresting party'?"   
He offered his arm; Sam ignored it and walked mutely beside him, up the two floors of stairs to the magnificent atrium at the top of the Masters Tower.

Once they were back with the milieu, Vlad had one last parting remark. "Alas, the duties of society call once again. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Ms. Manson."

As he walked away, Sam let out a grunt of frustration— then heard a cheery "Yoohoo!"  
There, waving at her, were the McSwains. As they rapidly walked over to greet her, Sam muttered one word to sum up the whole stupid evening.  
  


"Damn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this were an episode of the show, the theme song would play at this point.


	3. Chapter 3

**Eidolon Hill**

It was dark in the dimly lit corridor. Everything was upholstered in dark, warm colors; it was deathly silent. Tucker had to keep himself from tiptoeing through the hallway.  
At the far end of the hall was a steep flight of stairs, the carpet plush and red like a vampire's mansion. Tucker's steps made no sound. At the top, the black door stood, featureless; waiting. Taking a deep breath, Tucker reached out and turned the knob.

There was a creak of hinges, followed by a crash of thunder. A flash of light illuminated a figure sitting in an ornate chair, glaring intensely at the intruder.  
The voice boomed, "WHO DARES DISTURB MY— oh hey Tucker!"  
Sam Manson pressed a switch to turn on the normal room lights. Behind her, her top-floor view of Amity Park afternoon slowly faded into evening.  
"Hey Sam," said Tucker. "Nice introduction."

Sam grimaced. "There are _accountants_ hunting me," she said.  
"Oh, I get it," said Tucker. It was getting close to April. "You know, they do _say_ that nothing in life is certain but death and taxes... and you certainly have death nailed down."  
He gestured around the room. There were no cheery decorations to be found here; Sam's aesthetic sense tended towards the morbid. A rumor around the Hill, which Tucker had never been able to confirm or deny, was that Sam individually interviewed each new hire in this gloomy office.

"Yeah," said Sam, rolling her eyes. " _Any_ way, what did you need?"  
Tucker pulled out his tablet and tapped a few icons. "I think I figured out how that prototype got stolen in the first place. Feel like taking a break?"  
"With pleasure," Sam said, getting up from the desk. At her command, a wall panel slid back to reveal an elevator; Tucker and Sam got in and headed downwards.

——

"Okay," said Tucker on the way down through the building on the Hill, "I've been going over both systems' footage. None of the motion detectors picked up anything, so that's why I thought that there was no video. But then I saw _this._ "

The image on the tablet was a security-camera feed, showing a hallway and a reinforced, barred door. At first, nothing moved. Only a time stamp indicated the video was playing.  
Then Sam saw it. A _ripple_ in the air itself. It was only visible as it passed corners and edges, but it was there. And it moved with purpose, with intention.  
"What _is_ that?" she asked.

The elevator gave a 'ding' as it arrived. As they got out, Tucker said, "You're not gonna believe it."  
The underground corridor was reinforced concrete, painted a sky blue. A painted sign on the wall read _Main Lab_ , but it had been crudely spray-painted over with " _FentonWorks Lab and Ghost HQ_ ". Below that, someone had written in permanent marker and much neater handwriting, _(Ignore the Ghost Bit)_.  
Tucker glanced at the sign. "You haven't told the big guy about what happened to the prototype yet, have you?"  
Sam shook her head, lowering her voice. "No. I'm not really sure how he'd take it, and if Jack found out that—"

"DID SOMEONE CALL FOR _**JACK** **FENTON?!**_ "

Sam swallowed a grimace, turning. Eidolon Hill's brightest _and_ oddest researcher was standing in the doorway behind her. In six-and-a-half feet of bright orange jumpsuit, he was the biggest, as well.  
"What brings you here today? Here to see the newest FentonWorks has to offer?" He waved at Tucker.  
Tucker waved back, keeping a safe distance. Everyone knew about Jack Fenton. Around Jack Fenton, there were _explosions_.

Jack's lab assistant dodged out from behind him to see what the commotion was. A young woman with bright orange hair, she wore a black-and-teal jumpsuit and an aggrieved expression. Her name tag read, JASMINE.  
"Oh, hey!" she said upon spotting Sam. Her expression suggested she was glad for the break. "What's going on?"

Sam looked at Tucker. He glanced back, grimaced a little, and tried to shrug as unobtrusively as possible."I've got some bad news," Sam said. "Remember the newest invention the two of you came up with, the prototype?"  
"Oh, you mean the Fenton Exhibitiostentationer?" said Jack, boldly. He lowered his voice a little as he caught Sam's tone. "Er... has it exploded?"  
"Not quite," said Sam. "It got stolen."

Dual gasps from Jack and Jasmine. "STOLEN?!"  
"But it was in the Vault!" Jasmine said, gesturing down the corridor. "What happened?"  
"Maybe..." Jack said, his voice growing tight. "Maybe it was taken... by a _ghost!_ "

Sam and Jasmine both glared at Jack. "Um, _ghosts aren't real!_ " they said, in unison. This came up about once a week.  
Tucker chuckled from beside them. "You know, for once I wouldn't be so sure. Have a look at this." He hefted the tablet again. Everyone looked at the video of the ripple in the air.  
  
"Looks like it's going somewhere, doesn't it?" Tucker asked. "Turns out you can follow it to the next camera..."  
He tapped the screen. The video changed to another feed, showing the other side of the door. The ripple appeared here, too. Darting around, it made its way straight towards the room with the prototype.

"...and the next."  
The ripple passed _through_ the inner door, circled around Jack's invention, then dived at it. Slowly, the Fenton prototype flickered, faded— _and became a second ripple itself._ The anomaly then headed through the wall, and vanished.

"Prowling poltergeists!" said Jack, seeing the image onscreen. He grabbed the tablet away from Tucker. " _It's a real, invisible ghost!_ "  
"Well, mostly invisible," Tucker couldn't help saying. He gently retrieved the tablet before it got broken. "Turns out on infrared—"

Jack wasn't listening. "In honor of this occasion, I will now name the first ghost ever to be discovered by Jack Fenton..."  
"You mean by Tucker Foley," Tucker pointed out. Jack started over.  
"The first ghost ever to be discovered by _anyone_ , I will now name..." He took a deep breath. " **INVISO-BILL!** "

Silence. An alert buzzer rang from somewhere in the lab; Jasmine left quickly.  
After no one said anything for a few seconds, Jack added, "Be...cause he's invisible. And it sounds like the name 'Bill'. Right?"

Sam shrugged as she thought it over. "It's as good as any other name," she said, slowly nodding. "And now, we've got something we can call him if he shows up again." She looked at the tablet again. "What was that you were saying about infra—"

_**BOOOOOOOOM!** _

A very loud explosion shook 'FentonWorks', and a cloud of smoke drifted out the open doorway. Jack looked nervous. "Hold on just one second... I'll be right back!" he said, dashing into the confines of the lab.

Sam caught Tucker's gaze and gestured down the hallway towards the vault. Jack _wouldn't_ be coming back for a while— this happened often enough for Sam to be sure.  
  
As they walked through the vault door shown in the video, Tucker explained. "See, the reason 'Inviso-Bill' didn't trip the infrared sensors was that they're set up to trigger if they spot something warm. Inviso-Bill is actually colder than his surroundings— a lot colder."  
Tucker switched the video to a view of the heat sensor's output. "So I had a look to see what was causing it, and I saw _this."_

'Inviso-Bill' wasn't a ripple in the air anymore. He was a... a man, at least on the top half. A man with snow-white hair and glowing green eyes. Instead of a lower half, the man(?) had a tail, of the kind you might find on an old-time illustration of a spectre.

_My god...._ thought Sam. _All this time, Jack Fenton was_ ** _right_** ** _!_**

On the video, the ghost flew through— _through!_ — the inner door once again, homing in on the FentonWorks invention. He touched it— and the invention deepened into a cold spot as well, glowing in the infrared view as the ghost lifted it, pulling it up as he flew through the air.  
Right before he and his prize passed through the wall, Inviso-Bill looked back, smiling cockily like he knew the sensor was there.

Tucker paused the video, pointing to the face of the mystery ghost. "And _that's_ our culprit."

Sam didn't answer. She was staring at the grinning ghost, his glowing eyes setting off that smirk.  
"You know..." she said, after a few seconds. "It's funny. But I swear I've seen that face somewhere before..."

——

**Meanwhile - Masters Tower  
**

Vlad and Daniel Masters gazed out over Amity Park: their rightful domain.  Vlad rested his arm around Daniel's shoulders.  
"Excellent job, son," he said. He didn't need to say what he was talking about; they both knew. "Now that that buffoon Jack Fenton has made something that actually works for once, we can study it, dissect it, extract all its puny secrets and make them ours!"

Vlad was definitely in a good mood. He turned to look at Daniel benevolently. "You did well," he commented. "Your control over your powers is improving."  
Daniel nodded, smiling in echo of his father. "Thank you, Dad." His gaze shifted up to the brilliant Amity Park sky, its blue masking the stars beyond. "It was rather fun, actually. Just going in there and... _taking..._ "

Vlad's smile widened. "You're beginning to understand," he said. "This city— it's _ours_. We can do anything we like. No one will even _annoy_ us." His smile faded for a moment as he remembered something.  
"Well... almost no one."

Daniel knew that look. His Dad was cooking up something big. The last time he'd seen it, it had ended with him and the prototype zooming far away from Eidolon Hill.  
"What is it, Dad?" he asked. “You seem like you’re planning something interesting.”  
“Nothing _too_ important,” Vlad said. “Do you remember a Ms. Manson from the party yesterday evening?”  
It was a rhetorical question. Vlad had made Daniel memorize the executive structure of all the Masters Corporation’s competitors. Daniel nodded, his gaze slowly returning to the sky.

“I found her somewhere very interesting last night,” Vlad said, removing his arm from Daniel’s shoulder and gesturing below. “She was hanging off the side of the Masters Tower, evening gown and all— on the very floor where we’ve put the device.”  
 _That_ got Daniel’s full attention.  
“What?!” he said, realizing what had likely been going on. “What did you do?”  
Vlad shrugged, bringing his hands together at the fingertips. “I gave her a tour, of course! Stopping just on this side of the door. She’s likely tearing her hair out over it, even now.”

“Wait,” said Daniel. “Is that all you plan to do about it? She’ll probably try again.”  
“Not quite.” Vlad nodded and smiled, pleased to see Daniel’s strategic education was paying off. “We need someone to get close to Ms. Manson. To befriend her. To learn her secrets. And _then_...”  
Daniel didn’t need him to finish. “Oohhh... you’re going to send a spy to her. Who’d you have in mind?”

Vlad’s face fell as he realized he’d have to explain this one. “Well, it’d have to be someone we’d find trustworthy. Someone good at keeping secrets. Someone about Ms. Manson’s age, it’s a friendship thing. Someone she could also, with time, trust." He chuckled a little. "And, most importantly, someone who can come back here without arousing suspicion.”  
“But who— _oh_.”

“Yes,” said Vlad Masters, his grin as wide as the Amity Park skyline. Wish a sweep of one arm, he gestured at Sam's building, dark and brooding on Eidolon Hill.

 

“You’re going to go meet her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to scrollingdown for the 'Eidolon Hill' name.


	4. Chapter 4

The Amity Park Treehuggers' Ball wasn't really a ball, and definitely wasn't the sort of event you'd read about in the tabloids. Each year, a ragtag group of people, of widely varying status, would band together in something like a garden party.  
The group would converge on some site that had been environmentally misused, from trash-filled vacant lot to disused industrial building, giving it a complete makeover. They'd remove anything polluting or contaminated; groups would add plants and trees where there had been asphalt and gravel. When it was done, the space would be a breath of air in any corner of Amity Park (and usually became a park itself).  
  
All this was paid for by the richest of the Ball's attendees, who would discreetly add one extra ceremony at the end of the year's project: each signed a large check, to go towards various causes _including_ next year's Ball.  
Sam was one of them. Taking a breath of Amity's daytime air, she surveyed the scene from beneath her black sun hat.  
Everything was going well. People in T-shirts and jeans were bustling around. Several groups were each installing individual trees, while a large clump was in the middle of marking out a raised flowerbed. Everything was motion.  
Almost.

There was one young man off to the side, wearing a suit and tie. He seemed as out of place as a fish in a car park, and the lost look on his face only confirmed it. When he saw Sam, he wandered over.  
"Uh... hi!" he said. "I'm Daniel Smith..." His face froze. " _...oh crap it was supposed to be William wasn't it?..._ "   
He started over. "I'm Danny Smith. I've always loved really helping the planet!" Hopefully that was enough of a name change.

Sam stared, trying very hard to keep a straight face. She recognized 'Danny Smith'. It was none other than Daniel Masters, scion of the Masters Corporation. Was Vlad trying to play a joke on her? Time to respond and see what happened.   
"That's wonderful!" she said, trying to sound sincere. "Here." Grabbing a convenient shovel, she placed it neatly in "Danny"'s hands. "Glad you could make it. You look like you're ready for some nice, exhausting digging!"

"Wha— _no!_ Er, I mean..." Daniel backpedaled hastily. "Could you, er, show me what to do?" He gestured at the groups of people. "You seem like you'd be really 'in the know'."  
Sam mentally shrugged. No harm in showing him around. And he _definitely_ could use a little exercise. For all his father's grandeur, Daniel Masters was a little bit weedy.

"Now, the slogan of the Treehugger's Ball is: many hands make light work!" She made sure to keep her voice cheery. Daniel was probably a 'Master' at spotting ordinary sarcasm. "So, you want to get a shovelful of dirt..."

Daniel kept his mind off the job by planning his next response. "Many hands make light work, huh?" he said, trying to match Sam's tone. "Maybe I could help with that." He turned some more dirt over. "I've been looking all over for a job." After a second, he remembered to keep up his cover. "I just thought I could stop in when I saw what was going on!"

"That's, er—" It took Sam all she had to keep a straight face. Was Daniel serious? First, there had been the whole... incident at the Masters Tower. Now, Daniel Masters was coming to events she attended, looking out of place and sighing about needing a job. It couldn’t be coincidence. _Vlad Masters had sent Daniel to spy on her._  
  
Sam was about to dismiss Daniel outright... then, she had an idea. A nice, horrible, underhanded idea.   
“Sorry to hear about that,” she said, finishing her earlier sentence. “Have you ever thought of working on Eidolon Hill?”  
If Vlad Masters wanted someone inside her company, he was going to _get_ someone.

 

**Eidolon Hill**

"The first thing you need to know is that everyone who works here starts riiiight at the bottom. So to speak," said Sam as she and Daniel walked along the hallway. No one passed them. "With a little diligence, you'll be able to work all the way up to the level of 'soulless office drone'."

"Now," Sam continued, "there's just the matter of the dress code. Oh, Tucker! Perfect timing."Tucker himself came around the corner, carrying a plush folder. 'Dress Code' was inscribed on it in letters of gold.   
"There's a _dress code_?!" Daniel said, suppressing an 'Aw man'. "Hopefully this can't be _too_ bad." He opened the folder.

Sam and Tucker waited while Daniel read what was inside.  
"Suit or... OK, shoes, tie, optional decorative accents... skulls or spiderweb pins? Weird." He flipped the page over, his tone rising with every new line. "Casual Attire... dark colors expected... List of Accepted Event Logos... whaaaa...? weird _er_."   
Daniel glanced up at Sam and Tucker for a second, then turned to the third page.

"Personal Grooming... available hair dyes, blah blah blah, makeup, all non-casual personnel of either gender—" Daniel's voice broke. " _Black eyeliner?!_ "

Daniel looked around frantically, only to find the dress code's scenarios were playing out before his eyes. Tucker was in casual attire, rocking a Circus Gothica T-shirt and a pair of pants blacker than the night sky. His hair was up in some sort of tentacular arrangement.  
Sam had made sure to dress to the nines for this. You wouldn't have thought 'business corset' was a thing before meeting her. You'd be wrong. The rest of her business suit kept up the statement, with shades of purple and a little silver bat pin as an accent. The inevitable black eyeliner was only icing on the cake.

Daniel looked at Tucker, who shrugged. Then at Sam, who raised her eyebrows. Then, back at the dress code, trying to reassure himself it wasn't some sort of waking dream.

~~

"You look better already!" Sam said, admiring the 'new Daniel'.   
"...This is _not_ worth it...", Daniel muttered under his breath. He and Sam stood in front of a basement door, marked 'DEAD LETTER OFFICE'.

"Now, here's your new job," said Sam, unlocking the door and flicking on a light switch.  
Inside the room, there was mail. Lots and lots of mail. It sat in piles on the floor, overflowed bins in heaps, and drifted in corners.  
"Whenever we get something we can't route to someone at Eidolon, it ends up here. Try to sort out what you can. Any junk mail goes into the recycle bin."

"But wait!" said Danny, trying to salvage the situation. He'd never learn anything down here like this! "What about the lab?"  
Sam smiled. Daniel Masters _continued_ to lack the subtlety of his father. "Lab?" she said, turning to leave the Dead Letter Office. "Who said there were any labs here?"  
Propping the door open, Sam briskly walked off and left Daniel to his work.

It was only once the elevator door closed behind her that she (and Tucker, who'd ducked out to retrieve his regular outfit) burst out laughing.

~~~

**Meanwhile**

Deep beneath the Masters Tower, Vlad was struggling with himself. He knew this feeling, this tenseness in the air. It always happened when he was on the cusp of some great thing; when he had done his very first corporate takeover with stolen knowledge, becoming 'Master' of his own corporation. When Danny had been born, in those days before Maddie knew. When, just a few years ago now, he'd set up the large portal in the lab, carefully setting the activation mechanism on a hidden timer. All those times, the air had thickened around him, and he knew change was coming.

He knew it now. And he knew he needed to talk to someone.  
Which was why he was down here.

Only a few people knew this level of the Tower existed. To get here, you had to go to the lowest _public_ level of the tower. One of the janitors' closets had a secret door within, locked biometrically; that led into a secret elevator, leading down into a massive cube of solid steel. The cube was surrounded by a force field (one of the inventions Vlad had kept for himself), and cemented within a larger area of tunneling-resistant compacted earth.  
The only way in or out was through the Masters Tower.

At the bottom level of the elevator, the door opened to Vlad's palm. Once the elevator door closed, a steel panel sealed over it; then, the room he'd entered began to move sideways. Trying to get through here without being inside this room would result in horrible injury at the very _least_. The 'sideways elevator' hung suspended over a gap that stretched all the way down to the cube's bottom wall.

The room stopped moving with a 'ding!'. No doors opened in the far wall. This was the only point anyone could access the rooms beyond— and only then if they had a particular set of talents.  
Taking a deep breath, Vlad closed his eyes, preparing himself to use the ghost powers he'd gained so many years ago. Taking some care not to fall through the floor, Vlad Masters walked through the wall into the rooms beyond.

Vlad stepped into an immense living room. Plush couches and plush carpet created a tasteful décor; a series of ceiling fixtures and shaded ‘windows’ provided the illusion of natural light. A massive TV was attached to the far wall. Everything was of the highest quality.  
  
No one was in the room, so Vlad moved on. There were other rooms, each as well-furnished as the living room. The bedroom was almost as large as the living room, with more ‘natural light’. The dining room was smaller, perhaps cozier, where brushed metal neatly set off the dark wood of the table. In every room, no one was there.  
  
Vlad knew where he had to go, now. Carefully, he entered a staircase branching off from the main living room. Upwards was the exercise room, but he knew no one was up there. Instead, he started walking slowly down, taking the steps one by one.  
As he reached the bottom landing, a blast of energy came straight at him. Concentrating, Vlad turned intangible for a second; it splashed on the metal wall behind him.  
  
“Ah, Maddie,” Vlad said, as the woman who’d fired the beam reloaded her newest invention, “how lovely to see you again.”

Maddie Masters was shorter than Vlad, several inches under six feet tall. The steaming cannon balanced on her shoulder and her glare were all Vlad needed to read her mood: angry. She was always angry at him, these days.   
  
“Maddie, Maddie...” Vlad said, spreading his arms wide. “No good morning kiss?”  
He ducked to the side as another energy bolt came at him.  
“I’ll take that as a no.”  
  
Maddie paused for a moment to swap power cells. Her voice was curt, cold, inlaid with fury. “I have _nothing_ to say to you. You think anything’s changed after 17 years?”  
Seeing Maddie loosen her grip on the gun, Vlad took the opportunity to fire a mild ectoblast at it, knocking it away. “Of course! Amity Park’s grown wonderfully. As has Daniel.”  
  
Maddie started to shake, seemingly from fury. Vlad merely grinned. “I have to say, you’d be proud of him. I know it’s been hard, not being able to be there for him, but I’ve done my best to teach him what it means to—”   
Maddie’s precisely placed high kick hit Vlad under the chin. Skidding into a desk, Vlad blinked to the left and right to dodge the follow-up hits of the attack chain.  
“Teach him to steal and lie like you?” Maddie said, bracing herself as she planned her next attack. “You’re a—“  
  
“Now now, let’s not say anything we’ll regret,” interrupted Vlad. “I’ve made the Masters Corporation the _king_ of Amity’s skyline!” He couldn’t resist spreading his arms wide. “All it took was a few strategic nudges. If you’d been able to accept that 17 years ago—”  
Maddie _moved_. Pulling a baton from a side table, she extended it as she wheeled in the air, bringing it down on Vlad’s outstretched arm.  
  
“OW!” said Vlad, eyes blazing. Jumping backwards, he took a breath, willing his ghost form to come forth. Black rings swirled up and down his body, remapping Vlad Masters into Vlad Plasmius.   
Once Vlad had set up a shield in front of him, he finished his sentence. “If you’d been able to accept that 17 years ago— why, none of this would have happened. We’d all be the happiest of couples. As it is, the world thinks you’re dead, leaving me, the brave single parent, to run a family and an empire.”  
  
Vlad hadn’t noticed Maddie press the baton into a nearby charger socket while he was talking. It began to glow with green energy.  
“I’ve even been thinking of remarrying.”  
Maddie Masters grit her teeth. In one smooth movement, she swung the baton, breaking through Vlad’s ghostly shield. The green energy discharged into Vlad, crackling like lightning.  
  
Plasmius growled at her. From both hands, he fired bursts of energy that rotated to fly straight at Maddie; she jumped over them, aiming to land feet-first on Vlad. Vlad dodged, swirling his cape around himself as the blasts of energy behind Maddie reversed course and came back at her, knocking her baton away.  
  
Maddie had landed near the big gun she’d had when Vlad came in. Hefting it, she fired at Vlad; Plasmius shielded himself again, deflecting the charge away. Before it could hit the wall, Vlad duplicated himself, placing his copy in the path of the beam. As it shielded itself, the second bounce tossed the energy beam straight back at Maddie.  
  
She only spotted the blast returning at the last second. Flipping backwards to avoid it, Maddie landed on her feet at one end of the lab. Vlad hovered at the other end.   
“Shall we call it a stalemate?” he asked, his voice gently teasing. “You’ve given me quite the run for my money. Any lesser ghost would have fallen before you.” He grinned. “Or, fallen for you, like I did.”  
  
“You are a _monster_ ,” Maddie said, watching for any more incoming attacks. “How many people did you have to possess for your ‘empire’? How low will you sink? You’ve already started making our son your pawn!”  
“Not pawn, no,” said Plasmius, smiling again. “ _Far_ more. Daniel’s coming along quite nicely. Soon he’ll be almost as powerful as me... with careful training on my part, of course.”   
  
Vlad’s words startled Maddie enough she dropped the gun; it fell to the floor with a CLANG. “Y-you...” she said, eyes wide. “You didn’t...”  
“Mm?” said Vlad.  
Maddie’s shocked look submerged, replaced with one of pure hatred. “You— our son— _what did you do to Daniel?_ ”  
Vlad cursed, inwardly. He’d slipped up, but there was no point in denying it now. “Me? Why, nothing. However, you could say now he’s half—”  
  
 _ **“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!”**_  
Maddie didn’t bother saying anything more. She ran at Vlad, screaming at the top of her lungs. She didn’t bother with weapons or maneuvers, hitting him again and again until Vlad finally turned intangible.  
 _“GET OUT!”_ she yelled. “GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT! NEXT TIME I SEE YOU IN HERE I WILL _**KILL YOU!**_ YOU— YOU—”  
There was nothing more to be said. Vlad swirled back up to the Tower above, as Maddie fell to her knees, fury giving way to sobbing.   
  
Once Maddie was sure Plasmius was gone, she controlled herself, willing her tears away. There was no point to sadness now; for too long, she’d let herself grow comfortable in captivity in this gilded cage.   
Pulling aside some wreckage from the battle, Maddie opened the bottom drawer of a cabinet. Inside was the project she’d been working on, preparing for a day she hadn’t known would come.  
  
Carefully, Madeline Masters lifted a blue, hooded jumpsuit from the drawer, readying it so she could wear it to its full potential.  
It was time to escape the company of Vlad Masters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, special thanks to scrollingdown, particularly for helping with some tricky dialogue.


	5. Chapter 5

**Eidolon Hill**

Vlad Masters looked around the plush, dark hallway, leading up to the plain black door. He smiled; Ms. Manson knew how to set an ambiance. He'd almost feel sorry about viciously wresting control of it and Eidolon from Samantha when the time came.

Almost.

  
Carefully keeping his left hand behind his back, Vlad padded up the stairs and opened the black door; this time, it made no sound.   
Shadows collected inside of the office, like in the hall; the sunny day outside was not welcome here.  
"Mr. Masters," said a voice from inside the room. "Please, come in."  
Sam's face was half-hidden in shadow; she smiled. “What brings you here today?”  
  
Vlad slowly stepped into the office, shutting the door behind him. “Ah, Samantha,” he said. “I merely wanted to apologize for my rude behavior the other evening.”  
Sam kept up the smile. “Please,” she said, voice tightening slightly as she heard ‘Samantha’. “I think we’ve heard enough about the other day.”   
Vlad’s ‘visit’ was an obvious pretext. What was he up t—  
  
“And to bring you these.”  
From behind his back, Vlad extended a bouquet of black roses. They seemed to shimmer in the dim light of Sam’s sanctum. Placing them gently on the desk, he turned and headed for the door.  
“I’ll not keep you any longer,” he said, smiling a secret smile.  
“W-wait!” said Sam, examining the roses. “Why... ?“  
Vlad was gone.  
  
———  
  
Sam brightened the room to look at the roses once she was sure Vlad was far from the office. His visit _had_ been a pretext, but this? Just what was Vlad Masters trying to _do?_  
  
After he’d stepped into the elevator, Vlad held the CLOSE DOOR button to keep it inactive. Then, he waited for Daniel to appear, like they’d arranged.  
When his ghostly son appeared next to him, Vlad smiled. “Ah, Daniel,” he said, “I see you’re settling in to— what on earth are you wearing?!”  
“Black eyeliner, dad,” said Daniel, shrugging. “It’s part of the dress code, so I have to wear it.”  
  
Vlad took a second to breathe. “Hmm. What have you discovered so far?”  
“Not much,” said Daniel. “I’ve been shoveling these old letters they have in the basement.”  
“Have you opened any?” Vlad asked. It wasn’t the most promising lead, but perhaps it would yield some information.  
Daniel shook his head. “It’s almost all junk mail. And a few magazines. And piles of romance novels, for some reason...”  
  
Vlad kept his expression neutral. He merely hadn’t explained Daniel’s job clearly enough to him. “Now that you’ve settled in, Daniel,” he said, “here are what you need to do.”  
Vlad couldn’t count on his fingers— one hand was still pressed against CLOSE DOOR— but he gestured with his free hand. “First. Explore the building, invisibly. See if there’s a lab or a research wing somewhere. And when you do, well... have a look at what they’re up to.”  
  
Daniel nodded. “And the second thing, dad?”  
“Have a look at what the other employees are wearing, and see whether that ‘dress code’ of yours is real!”  
Daniel could tell that was all. As the elevator began to move, he flew down through Eidolon Hill.  
  
———

It took Daniel an hour before he figured it out. Most of Eidolon Hill's workers dressed ordinarily... even casually. There was no sign of the 'soulless office drones' Ms. Manson had mentioned, either.  
Slowly, Daniel realized what Vlad had figured out in one glance: the 'Dress Code' had been a joke.

One change of clothes later, 'Inviso-Bill' was on the prowl again, searching for the R&D department. It, at least, was easy to find. It was on the other side of the wall from the Dead Letter Office! Anyone unable to phase through walls would have had a much longer path to follow.

And on the other side of the wall...  
“—you did _what?_ ” said Jasmine, looking around at the devices taking up all the space in the lab.  
  
“Ever since that _ghost_ was here,” Jack Fenton said, “I figured it’d be a good idea to make some anti-ghost weapons, to protect ourselves in case it comes back.”  
“You mean ‘Inviso-Bill’?” Jasmine said. “What makes you think he’ll want to come back, with all these ghost weapons lying around?”  
  
Jack Fenton raised one arm in the air and waved it about. “Then they’ll have done their jobs perfectly!”  
Jasmine slowly placed one hand over her face.   
  
While the two argued, Daniel eased himself into the lab, taking care to stay invisible. As Jack had promised, half the free space was filled with hastily cobbled-together devices, each presumably having some anti-ghostly purpose. It was hard to stop himself from asking, “What do all of these do?”, but Daniel kept silent— it’d blow his cover, and then he’d probably find out what the things did from the wrong end.  
  
“Seriously, though... what _is_ this?” asked Jasmine, pointing at what looked like two-thirds of a shiny metal robot.  
Daniel smiled, keeping his invisibility up— maybe he wouldn’t have to ask after all. He floated closer to the device.  
  
“I call it the Fenton Auto-Peeler!” Jack said, pointing at an aperture on the ‘arm’ of the thing. “It’ll take apart, layer by layer... well, anything really. But it’s supposed to be used on ghosts.”

Jasmine squinted at it, looking at the control panel. Right where the belt buckle would be was a button marked ‘ON/OFF’. That was all.   
“Wait,” she said, “how are you supposed to control it?” There was too much machinery in the ‘Peeler’ to stand in, and there didn’t seem to be any other sort of interface.   
“I’m glad you asked!” said Jack, coming over and pressing the ‘ON’ button. “It’s the Fenton _Auto_ -Peeler after all— so, it’ll automatically home in on any ghosts in the area!”  
  
The Peeler shivered into activity, perking up and scanning the room. “ _Scanning for ghosts,_ ” a robotic voice said.  
Jack rested his arm on the Peeler’s metal shoulders. “This baby’ll keep looking until it finds anything. Or, until we turn it off. It’s the perfect way to guard the lab!”  
Jasmine stared at the robot, intrigued despite herself. “So what exactly does it do when—“  
  
The Peeler stopped scanning, focusing on a single point. “ _Ghost detected,_ ” it said, turning and lifting its weapon.   
Daniel suddenly realized that it was aiming at him.  
  


 

———  
  
Danny leapt as the Peeler made its move, keeping his invisibility intact. A green scything blade of energy shot out of the device, missing Danny and hitting a gold bust of Jack Fenton sitting on a shelf.  
As promised, the blade _peeled_ the statue, trimming off layers of gold leaf and metal until all that was left was the base.  
  
Danny looked back at the devastated statue. _Wow,_ he thought. _That’s pretty dangerous._ The ‘whirr’ of the Peeler startled him again, and he zoomed away as another blade came at him. This one shredded a stack of papers, and the one after it—  
Daniel pulled up short as the second blade passed through the air he was about to fly into, collapsing a shelf of parts.  
 _It leads its shots too?!_  
  
Jasmine and Jack looked around frantically as the Peeler fired at something they couldn’t see.   
“Did you make a remote for it?”  
“Why would you ever need a remote for the Fenton Auto-Peeler? All the smarts it’ll ever need are right in there!”  
The Peeler decided it was time to change tactics, adjusting its aim. Both arms pointed at Jasmine; it fired before she could react. She opened her mouth to scream... and the Peeler blades bounced off her chest, spreading across a line of invisible duplicates Danny’d put up to distract it. The duplicates disintegrated into smoke, slowly becoming visible as they fell apart.  
  
Seeing Jasmine’s distress, Jack tried to calm her down.  
"Don't worry, Jazzy-pants! The Fenton Auto-Peeler's blade can't get through your jumpsuit.”   
Jasmine closed her eyes and took a deep breath; across the room, a fume hood fell to pieces. “It would. Have been nice. To know that. _BEFORE IT SHOT ME!_ ”  
  
Drawers spilled their contents; gadgets split in pieces. No matter which way Daniel dodged, the Fenton Auto-Peeler closed on him. Finally, there was only one way out: concentrating, Daniel merged back through the wall, into the Dead Letter office. Panting with the effort of the battle, Daniel turned back to human form. Letting himself fade back in, he started shuffling mail and tried not to think about what was going on on the other side of the wall.  
  
FentonWorks was in shambles. Debris littered the floor from when the Peeler had started firing wildly. The machine now focused on the wall Daniel had flown through, buzzing in a way Jasmine was starting to recognize as ‘thinking’. With a hum of high power, the robot fired at the wall, carving a hole in it; it jumped through, into the room beyond.  
  
Jasmine looked at Jack Fenton, standing in the now-wrecked lab. It was hard for her not to fall over, but she stared at Jack Fenton.  
“You’re removing the ‘Auto’ function,” Jasmine said, crossing her arms.  
  
Jack sighed. “...I’m removing the ‘Auto’ function,” he said, sadly.  
  
———  
  
Daniel had ten seconds of relaxation before the Peeler burst through the wall like some evil Kool-Aid Man. “ _Ghost detected,_ ” it said, leveling its weapons once again.  
Through the gap, Daniel could see Jack and Jasmine staring. He couldn’t transform! They’d see him, and that would be it for Daniel Masters, ‘superspy’— possibly in more ways than one.  
  
Time to run. Danny dodged behind a pile of mail, heading for the door. The Peeler fired through it, shredding the mail. The only thing that saved Danny was reflexes, honed by long hours training under his father’s direction. He leapt for the exit.  
  
The Auto-Peeler saw Danny try to escape. Whirring, it tensed and jumped, cartwheeling in the air to land on its feet in the doorway— but Danny couldn’t stop his leap, crashing into it. His training kicked in, and he grabbed at the thing, pulling himself up on top of it.  
  
The robot didn’t realize Danny was sprawled on it, whirring and whirling around as it tried to find the ghost it was looking for. Peeler bolts flew everywhere, sending piles of paper scraps tumbling. Danny looked down at the thing, trying to keep from getting dizzy. There had to be something he could do!  
Daniel saw the control panel, with its one switch. With one motion, he prodded the ‘ON/OFF’ button; then, the Auto-Peeler’s twirling threw him off. Daniel slammed into the wall, blurrily seeing the Peeler’s arms slow, aim at him... then stop.  
  
Running feet, and the sound of concerned voices. Recovering from where he’d hit his head, Daniel saw two figures standing over him.  
“Are you all right?” Jasmine asked Daniel.  
“You stopped the Fenton Auto-Peeler without getting hurt?” came a louder voice. “Amazing!” Jack paused for a second as he thought. “Hey, maybe we could use him around the lab.”  
“You’re looking at an injured man you don’t even know and you’re thinking of hiring him? Isn’t there _something else_ you should be thinking about?”  
  
“Oh, right!” Jack Fenton bent down. “What’s your name, son?”  
Daniel focused on Jack Fenton’s faced, swimming back and forth in front of him. “I... I’m Danny,” he said. His head and back ached.  
“Great!” Jack said. “Danny, you’re hired.”  
  
Daniel didn’t respond. He’d blacked out.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, special thanks to scrollingdown for help with pacing and sundries.


	6. Chapter 6

**Masters Tower - Interview Room**

  
The room was dimly lit; two people sat at the plain table in the center. There weren't going to be any distractions for this meeting.   
  
“So,” said Vlad, smiling at the woman sitting across from him. “What brings the... _unusual_ arm of the government to the Masters Corporation today?”  
The woman didn’t smile back. Her white suit and trilby set a snappy image; her voice was calm, with the assurance of someone who knows they have the law on their side.  
  
“Mr. Masters,” she said, folding her arms. “The Guys in White understand you may have begun experimenting with ectoplasm-powered technology.”  
Vlad raised one eyebrow.  
“We request access to the labs of the Masters Corporation so we can examine any and all ghost-related developments; moreover, we reserve the right to confiscate any technology which could lead to the emergence of hostile spectral entities in Amity Park or the world at large,” the agent said.  
“Of course!” replied Vlad, waving one hand airily. “I’d be happy to show you everything the Masters Corporation has to offer. It’s just...”  
  
With his other hand, Vlad pulled out a familiar metal arm-gun, placing it on the table. “I just _worry_ about what might happen if your agents were to venture into some of the labs. I know you all mean well, but with testing this device and that, without knowing what they are, or how they work, or what it’s safe to touch... well, it’s possible—”  
  
 **ZOW!**  
  
The Peeler’s gun went off, a blade of green energy slicing apart a vase on the far wall. It had held an arrangement of flowers, in dyed water; now, the petals were shattered, and blood-red liquid dripped onto the floor. Keeping her poker face firm, the woman looked over, then back at Vlad.  
  
“Oops, I’m _such_ a butterfingers,” Vlad said.  
  
After a second, Vlad Masters smiled, in a mock-sheepish way. “I’d do my best to keep your agents safe, of course,” he continued, “but I can’t help worrying about if it wasn’t _enough_. With agents running everywhere, getting into everything, exposing themselves to all sorts of dangers...“ He looked over at the vase, giving a little shrug.  
  
“Some things, my dear, are better left... _unsaid._ ”  
  
  
  
Once the agent was out of the Masters Tower, she got in the off-white official car waiting on the other side of the street. Another GiW agent started it, and the two drove away.   
“As you expected, Mr. Masters offered veiled threats to our request.” Reaching into her suit, the agent began to remove the Ectoplasmic Activity Detector [codename: ‘Color Wheel’] she’d worn, hidden.  
The other agent nodded. “While you were talking with him, there was one moderate spike of energy,” he said. “In addition, there was also a steady reading in front of you, coming _from_ Mr. Masters.”  
“The spike was from that weapon, but... he’s definitely been in contact with some sort of ectoplasmic entity, for a reading that steady,” the woman said. “It’s not a small one, either. Did it match anyone we’ve seen before?”  
  
“No, it did not,” said the agent driving. “No entity previously recorded, but it’s definitely a ghost’s signature. To remain hidden without causing trouble in Amity Park suggests it’s smart, as well.” He looked over at the female agent. “From what you saw in the Masters Tower, do you have any further ideas what this might imply?”  
  
The agent had finished removing her equipment; now, she lowered her sunglasses, looking at the Amity Park skyline. Her green eyes reflected in the windshield.  
“I don’t know,” said Valerie. “But I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”  
  
———  
  
 **Three Weeks Earlier - FentonWorks**  
  
“Do I _have_ to wear this?” Danny asked.  
Jasmine folded her arms. “Hey, you got a problem with jumpsuits?”  
  
Danny held up the garment, trying not to grimace. The black-and-white protective suit had an uncanny resemblance to the one he’d.... _died_ in. “It’s just...”  
  
“You’ve got to wear it, Danny!” Jack Fenton said. “It’ll protect you, from _ghosts_.” He thought a moment. “And Fenton anti-ghost weaponry, too.”  
After the Peeler incident, that was all Danny needed to hear. He headed for a screened-off corner to have some privacy while he put it on.  
  
“All done!” Tucker said to Jasmine, getting off of the stepladder he’d been leaning on. “I calibrated those sensors you installed with the readings from the break-in. They’ll pick up any more ghosts that come lurking about.”  
  
Jack Fenton smiled. “If Inviso-Bill shows up now, we’ll catch him like a marshmallow in fudge!” As he mentioned ‘fudge’, Jack’s gaze started to drift. “That reminds me. What should I have for lunch today...?”  
  
“Anyway,” Tucker said, “nothing else’ll go the way of the...” He looked at Sam, who had come down to the lab to talk Danny’s ‘hiring’ over with Jasmine. “...what was that thing again?”  
  
“The ‘Fenton Exhibitiostentationer’,” Sam said, drawing out every syllable. “Jack, what exactly did the stolen prototype _do?_ ”  
  
“I’m glad you asked!” said the man in the orange jumpsuit. “The Fenton Exhibitiostentationer is the first in a new wave of presentation technology. Anything you use it on will be protected in a reinforced glass case and shown off to the best of its advantage! Lighting and labeling included.”  
  
There was a sputtering sound from behind the screen, then Danny stuck out his head. “You mean the thing that I s— er, that was stolen was a _display stand?!_ ”  
  
“Not just any display stand!” Jack said, ignoring Danny’s glum look. “The Fenton Exhibitiostentationer was going to be the _king_ of display stands, able to preserve anything, no matter the circumstances!” He grinned. “Why, it could even catch a fastball as it comes off the pitcher’s mound.”  
  
Sam got a very strange look on her face. She was about to say something— then Danny (done suiting up) pushed the screen aside. The reinforced black-and-white suit fit him snugly, protecting everything but his head in case anyone tried to shoot him again. “Well?” he said.  
  
Jasmine and Jack turned to look. Tucker and Sam followed them... and stared.  
“Congratulations, son!” Jack said. “You look like a _real_ member of FentonWorks now!”  
  
Tucker whispered to Sam while Danny was distracted. “Is it just me, or does Danny remind you of anyone in particular?” He wasn’t hiding his ‘bewildered’ expression.  
Sam whispered back, “I think so, but... I don’t know who. It’s like I’ve seen him before...”  
  
“Now,” said Jack, throwing a hand over Danny’s shoulders and dragging him away, “it’s time for your tour of the lab.”  
“Starting with the safety regulations,” Jasmine added, hurrying to catch up. Just before she did, Jasmine looked back at Sam and nodded.   
Sam’s message had gotten through loud and clear. Jasmine’d keep Daniel Masters away from anything _really_ important.  
  
———  
  
 **Now - Masters Tower**  
  
Danny faded back in once Valerie had left. He looked even paler than he usually did in ghost form.  
“Y-you threatened to kill her!”  
  
Vlad looked askance at Danny. “Did I _say_ I’d harm her? No.” He stepped over to the flower vase, levitating the broken glass and bone-white stems into a trash can. “Did I point that,” he gestured to the Peeler, “at her? No. I merely... implied.”  
  
“It was still a threat!” Danny said. “I didn't get you that Peeler so you could threaten people with it!"  
"My dear boy, what did you _think_ I would do with it?" Vlad waved a hand dismissively. “Use it to slice grapes? Frighten ghosts? No. It’s a weapon, until I can disassemble it and master its secrets.”  
  
“And then what?” Danny calmed down as Vlad explained, but his voice was still unsure. “Dad... what did you have in mind?”   
Danny tried not to wince as he heard his own awkward tone.  
  
“What did I— Daniel, what exactly is the _matter?!_ ” Vlad said, not bothering to hide his irritation. “You’re full of objections today. Has something upset you?”  
  
“I don’t know,” said Danny, looking slightly up like he had, a month ago, at the top of the tower that bore his name. “It used to be... to be fun. To follow your example. Taking things. You said you were going to teach me to overshadow people soon, and I looked forward to that, as well. But now, I... I don’t know.”  
  
 _“You don’t know.”_ Vlad’s voice had undertones of warning, and overtones of contempt.  
  
“I don’t!” Danny said again. “I’ve seen something, of... others, since last month. Other people. And they’re _different._ You said this was the only way we could live, but if the rest of the world—”   
  
“Stop acting like you’re 14, Daniel!” Vlad yelled, turning to shout in his son’s face. “This is _war!_ Us versus the world! We have been given power, and it is _ours_ to use— but only if the rest of this earth never, _ever_ finds out about us. They’d destroy us!”  
Danny opened his mouth to say something, but Vlad kept shouting. “What do you think your precious FentonWorks would do if they found out you were a ghost?” he barked, waving a hand dismissively. “They’d strap you to a table and dissect you ‘molecule by molecule’!” Vlad mimicked Jack’s bombastic voice, mockingly.   
“They would _not—”_  
“Or those agents? The Guys in White? Do you know what they do, Daniel? They— destroy— _ghosts!”_ Vlad punctuated each word by pounding on the table. “Unless you, Daniel, want to experience pain and terror beyond your worst imaginings somewhere you will never see the sun again, you _will not question what we have to do to survive! **DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!** ”_  
  
  
Danny looked at his father, then over at the crimson smear where the vase had stood. He blinked, slowly, taking a breath he didn’t need as a ghost. His voice was emotionless when he spoke; he’d hidden it, just like Vlad had taught him to.  
“I understand, Father.”   
He turned towards the wall, drifted through it, and left.  
  
Vlad Masters took a breath after he’d gone, unclenching his fist and rubbing the dent it had left in the table. Then, he exited the interview room, calling a janitor to take care of the stain.  
  
———  
  
 **Two Weeks Earlier - FentonWorks**  
  
“Mr. Fenton?”  
  
“Call me Jack, son.”  
Jack Fenton turned from across the lab and gave Danny an approving glance.   
  
Danny took a moment to look around ‘FentonWorks’. Prototypes of some of the inventions that had made headlines were there— the Energy Recovery Device that was Eidolon’s salvation, dirtproof glass for windows of every type. There was even an attempt at improving the deli-toothpick twirling machine over in a corner.  
Most of the things in the room, though, disassembled or not, had to do with another world entirely.  
  
“Why... why are you so interested in ghosts?”  
  
“You know,” said Jack, raising one eyebrow, “it’s been a long time since someone asked me that question!” He dropped what he was doing and ran over, readying his arms to gesture.  
“You’d better sit down,” muttered Jasmine to Danny, as she hurried to see if anything had been broken.  
  
Danny leaned against the counter as Jack told him the story.  
“It was a long time ago... ah, you know what? I’ll tell you like it was _meant_ to be told,” Jack said. “Picture this! I was a boy, once.”  
Danny bit back a snarky remark.  
  
“I never had anything to do with ghosts!” Jack went on. “Not a one. Me and my parents lived as ordinary a life as you could have.”  
Danny bit back another snarky remark.  
“Then one day...” Jack paused for dramatic effect. “An old trunk arrived in the mail.”  
  
Jack Fenton gestured with his hands to set the tone. “It was a very... _mysteeeerious_ old trunk. Very mysterious. No one in our family knew what was inside it... but there was a note attached saying something about an inheritance.”  
Jack stared into space, reminiscing. “We opened the trunk, and inside was a stack of letters. Now, the first letter was from my great-grandfather...”  
  
~  
  
“...and it turned out I was from a whole lineage of... _ghost hunters!_ ” said Jack, waving his hands again. “All the way back to the legendary John Fenton-Nightingale!”  
Danny opened his eyes, and shook a little. Had he fallen asleep?!   
“So what happened then?” Danny’s mouth said, before he could stop himself.  
  
“When my parents heard that the letters were about ghosts... they got scared.”  
“Let me guess,” Danny said. “The letters came alive and started jumping out at them, while dressed in a sheet?”  
“Of course not, Danny!” Jack said. “That would be ridiculous.” He paused to think. “Al _though..._ ” he said, raising one eyebrow as he remembered. “There was that one story I heard where there was a haunted mailbox—”  
  
“What happened with the trunk?” Danny asked, before Jack could go too far off on his tangent.  
Mr. Fenton cleared his throat. “My parents said I had to give the letters back, and I wasn’t to open the trunk again. The next day, it had disappeared. When I asked them where it had gone, I saw _fear_. Fear.... and worry.”  
Danny was starting to realize what had happened. Mr. Fenton’s parents had known about his legacy all along, tried to shield him from it. They hadn’t counted on it knowing his address.  
  
“...and that was that,” Jack finished. “Once I saw what a mere mention of ghosts did to my parents, I knew my goal: to protect them, and everyone like ‘em.” He stroked his chin. “I’ve never met a ghost. Never even _seen_ one, until this month. But I’m going to find out what’s so frightening about them, what makes ‘em tick!   
No matter what I have to do to keep everyone safe.”   
  
He bowed his head, then spoke again as an idea struck him. “Maybe I should make an Ecto-Scalpel for when we catch one!”  
That broke the moment. Danny went back to hanging ‘ghost-repelling webbing’ on the walls of FentonWorks, thinking about what he’d heard.  
  
———  
  
 **Now - Masters Tower**  
  
Danny glided down through the floors of the Masters Tower, Vlad’s shouts still ringing in his ears. Was his father really right? Would the rest of the world turn away if they knew ghosts were real?  
  
Danny’d helped Vlad bully ghosts that came through the portal, tossing back and telling them to spread the word they couldn’t enter the real world. Vlad hadn’t wanted anything getting loose and terrorizing Amity Park. Only now did Danny realize it might have also served another purpose: if the world didn’t know about ghosts, they couldn’t see them as a threat. Vlad could take what he wanted: ideas, wealth, inventions, power.  
The stolen display stand appeared in Danny’s mind’s eye, and he realized that he’d been helping— no. Vlad had been _teaching_ him to do it, too.  
  
As Daniel slowly drifted downwards, sliding through floors without pause, he flashed to Jack Fenton. Jack was certainly capable of harming any ghost he came across, if only by accident. That said, the man didn’t seem to _hate_ ghosts. He was the kind of person who’d disassemble anything— or anyone— to find out how they worked. He’d all but said that, and he’d meant it with all his being.  
As soon as Danny thought of Jack Fenton, his mind’s eye panned through the basement hallways to the empty spot where a device had stood.  
  
Was it right, to have used his ghostly powers to steal from FentonWorks? It was a small thing. A prototype, sure, but still the prototype of a display stand. It wouldn’t be saving any lives, or guiding the world into a better future.  
Even so...   
  
Danny knew most people didn’t just _take_ what they wanted. Vlad had always said it made him and Danny better, stronger. But what if Vlad was wrong? If there was a reason most of the world didn’t act like himself and Vlad... then, who was right? Two ghosts in a silver tower, or the rest of the world?  
  
And if the rest of the world had different morals than Danny and his father... what did that make Vlad?  
What did that make _himself?_  
  
The display stand came back to his thoughts, and Danny smiled.  
He wasn’t sure if what he’d done was the right thing, but he thought he knew how to balance the scales a little.  
  
Quickly, Danny flew back up to Vlad’s private lab. The Exhibitiostentationer was still inside the center room, polished wood reflecting its slim design on every surface. Picking it up with one arm, Danny faded back out through the wall.  
It was time to return to Eidolon.  
  
———  
  
 **One Week Earlier - Eidolon Hill**  
  
Once again, Vlad walked through the rich hallway, easing the blank door open with a touch. His hands were empty, this time.  
As before, Sam sat there, waiting, in the shadows.  
  
“Mr. Masters.”   
Her tone was playful, her smile visible in the shade that hid her face.   
  
Vlad slowly advanced, stopping as he gave a deep bow before her desk. His somber suit blended in well, here.  
“Ms. Manson,” he replied. Sam had made clear she didn’t prefer ‘Samantha’, and last names created a wonderfully formal effect.   
Vlad placed both his hands together as he straightened up, one atop the other.   
“Ms. Manson. For this evening, I’d be honored to invite you to...”   
He trailed off, looking expectantly at Sam.  
“To?” she said, eyeing his clasped hands.  
  
“Wherever you like!” said Vlad, taking pains to keep his smile charming. “I have the tickets here.”  
Sam blinked; this had to be a trick. She could name _any_ event, and he’d have tickets? How on earth had Vlad managed this?  
For a moment, Sam was tempted to name something horribly expensive, but then she had a better idea.  
  
“There’s a poetry reading,” she said. There’s no way Vlad could have heard of it. It wasn’t advertised. Sam had only known it existed through word of mouth. And the organizers weren’t going to do anything as gauche as _sell_ admission. “Tonight. Exclusive. You probably haven’t heard of it.”  
  
Vlad raised one eyebrow, waving hand one over the other. “Excellent choice, my dear.”  
As he pulled his arms apart, a single slip of paper fell onto Sam’s desk.  
It was a ticket to the reading, sure enough. Everything matched, up to the little hand-drawn doodle (for this ticket, a book with a darkly shimmering cover) in one corner.  
Sam did not let her jaw drop. She _refused_ to show surprise in front of her business rival. But still— how had he managed this?! Slowly, Sam pulled the ticket towards her, smiling to indicate she appreciated the gift.  
  
Seeing Sam’s careful response, Vlad smiled. “I will await you this evening, Ms. Manson.”  
Then he withdrew as silently as he’d came.  
  
~  
  
Vlad returned to the office on the hill hours later. Sam was there, wearing a dress with all the colors of nighttime. (She’d kept her combat boots.)  
Mr. Masters was resplendent in perfectly creased vest and blood-red cravat, like a particularly self-satisfied vampire.  
The two eyed each other, smiling warily; Vlad offered Sam his arm. Minutes later, they were both on their way.  
  
The reading was as exclusive as Sam had heard. The room was small, dimly lit, almost intimate. A subtle sound system woven into the decor ensured everyone could hear each word. The two sat in the second row, close. As the first poet began, Sam shot a glance over at Vlad. She’d expected him to be bored, or faking enjoyment, but his attention seemed genuinely focused over on the stage.   
After a moment, Vlad caught her gaze, looking back at her with a tiny smile.  
  
Time passed. Words glided around Sam and Vlad, painting images of love and loss and life and death and dread. Subdued applause greeted each speaker as they spent the last of their given time on stage.   
Sam didn’t know when she and Vlad had leaned together, when their sides had touched. She only knew they were there, now, together.  
A thought came to her, as though some inner demon had whispered it: she had an opportunity.  
  
“Vlad?” she said quietly, beneath another rain-shower of applause.  
“Yes, Ms. Manson?” Vlad said. He was still looking forwards, but he turned, settling his blue eyes on her face.  
“I know we’ve been at odds before, but...” She gestured with her free hand.   
Vlad caught her meaning right away. He smiled, but repressed his excitement. The better to match the sombre setting.  
“Is enmity worth it, now?” he asked her. “Is that what you were wondering?”  
“Kind of,” said Sam. “We’ve... ‘interfered’ with each other before.”  
  
“My dear, _whatever_ do you mean?” Vlad was still smiling, watching her amused expression. His response was for show, and they both knew it.  
“I was thinking,” Sam said, slowly. “We could promise not to... get in each others’ way. Give up the backbiting, the trying to chip away at each others’ companies, the spies... just give it a rest. To ‘celebrate’,” she waved her free hand at Vlad and the stage, “...this. ‘Us’, I guess.”  
  
Vlad smiled, looking Sam over. She could see a dreamy tint in his eyes; the last few words had caught his attention.   
“Interesting.” He slowly drew the word out, taking time to think. The look slowly hardened, replaced with naked ambition. “This is quite the proposition.”  
  
He’d agree— she was sure of it now. But would he live up to his words?  
“Do you promise?” Sam said, brushing Vlad’s hand. “We stop infighting, and face the future... together?”  
  
“Of course, my dear,” Vlad said, enjoying the moment of her touch. “Of course.”  
  
———  
  
 **Now - Eidolon**  
  
Danny mentally rehearsed what he’d say as he flew down through the floors of the building on the hill.   
_There’s something I need to tell you._   
A pause, for the question.  
 _My last name isn’t ‘Smith’. It’s Masters._   
Another pause. Shock. Perhaps, a few weapons leveled at him.  
 _Yeah. For the past few weeks I... I mean... my dad, Vlad Masters, sent me here to try and spy on you. But that’s not everything. There’s something more important._  
He’d take out the display stand, place it on the table.   
_Before all that happened, I stole this from Eidolon Hill._   
There’d be questions. He’d take a deep breath, close his eyes, and reveal the secret that only he and Vlad had known until now.  
 _A few years ago, my father was making a portal to—_  
  
 **CLAAAAANG!**  
The noise snapped Danny out of his reverie. He looked around. As he’d thought about what he’d say, he had drifted straight into FentonWorks, newly upgraded with ghost-detecting sensors and alarms.  
  
Danny flailed, trying to take in the situation. Jack was on his lunch break; only Jasmine was in the lab. At the sound of the buzzer, she tensed and dropped her work, scanning the room. As the sensors confirmed it was a ghost, green energy spiderwebbed through the nets Danny had helped drape over the walls himself, trapping him.   
He certainly couldn’t back out now. Slowly, Danny faded back in.  
  
“Um, Jasm— _don’t shoot!”_  
Seeing ‘Inviso-Bill’ appearing in her lab, Jasmine grabbed for a nearby ectogun, firing a glowing net at Danny with painful speed. She hadn’t believed in ghosts at first, but her reaction to discovering they were real was to start practicing. Danny barely ducked the first net; the second hit him square on.  
  
“Wait! Jasmine!” Danny said, as the net’s cords wrapped around him and froze his body, sending him slamming against a table. “It’s not what you think! There’s something I need to—”    
The net flared with electricity, and what Danny was about to say was lost as he screamed.  
  
As the pulse died down, Danny knew he had to talk fast. “I’m not here to take anything! I came to return the invention I took earlier, and there’s something I need to tell all of you. Get Sam! She’ll—”  
  
The net flared again. Danny could feel his control slipping. If he didn’t get out of this, soon, his secret would come to light the hard way.  
Jasmine stiffened as Danny mentioned the name of Eidolon’s CEO. “How’d you know... why are you acting so familiar with us?!”  
  
“That’s what I’ve got to tell you!” he shouted, trying to get as many words in as possible. “I’ve been here before, just as someone else! I’m not a ghost, not really! _I’m D—_ “  
  
The net flared one more time. Danny yelled, his voice breaking as he felt his willpower shatter. He couldn’t maintain control over his form over more. He’d failed.   
Rings of light moved around Danny’s body, changing ghostly features to flesh and blood, replacing his lightning-sealed jumpsuit with everyday wear. The net released, with its ghostly target gone. When Jasmine recognized Danny, she almost dropped the gun.   
“... Danny?” Jasmine said. She didn’t sound scared of him, just... hurt.  
  
“I... I’m sorry,” Danny said as his body went limp. The stand fell from his hand, hitting the ground just as Sam’s boots appeared in the doorway.  
  
———  
  
 **Masters Tower**  
  
Samantha Manson, CEO of the company on Eidolon Hill, forced her way through the grand double doors into Vlad Masters’ seat of power. Her eyes were red; it was as though she had been crying.  
“You lied to me!” she shouted, dragging a frantic Danny behind her by the arm.  
  
Vlad turned, recognizing Danny. He decided on bluff.  
“About what, Ms. Manson?”  
Sam took a deep breath, glaring at Vlad. “You said you wouldn’t get involved. You promised! And then you sent your ghost of a son to steal things and spy on me!”  
“My dear, I—” Vlad caught Sam’s last words and stiffened. _“What did you say?”_  
  
“I _know,_ Vlad,” Sam said, pulling out the Fenton Exhibitiostenationer so she could wave it in front of his face. “Your secret. How you came to wealth. How a prototype disappeared from our lab. What’s been going on these past twenty years. You’ve been using your— your— _ghost powers_ to steal from people and build yourself up and...”  
Vlad smiled, making a gesture with one hand. Behind Sam, the double doors clicked loudly as they locked.  
  
“You are _quite_ right, Samantha,” Vlad said.  
Then, he transformed, black rings swirling around his body. His black suit vanished, replaced by a white, caped outfit. His hair reformed from gray to black, pointed like an upturned crescent moon. As the transformation completed, Vlad Plasmius stood there, laughing at her.  
  
“Tell me, _Samantha,_ ” he said, grinning. His fangs glinted in the light from the tower-wide window. “How does it feel to know too much? Do you feel clever? Smug, perhaps? A pity you chose to confront me here, where there’s no one else to see.”   
  
He looked at Danny, the movement blade-sharp. “ **Kill her.** ”  
  
  
And Danny hesitated. “But—”  
  
“Danny!” said Sam. “It’s not worth it! Vlad got you to steal from us before, but now— if you go through with this, where’ll it end?”  
“Ignore her,” said Vlad, waving one hand. “This is our destiny, Danny. No one can stand in our way. We must not _let_ anyone oppose us!”  
  
“Where does it stop?” Sam repeated, trying to edge farther away from Vlad and Danny. “First you steal, next you kill, then—?”  
“Then he finally grows into his _heritage!_ ” Vlad barked, lunging to block Sam from smashing at the door. “The world’s ours, _Samantha,_ ” he said, taking a calmer breath. His eyes glowed red as he smiled. “A shame you had to come here today. We could have had something—”  
  
Sam couldn’t let _that_ pass. “Like we had a promise not to interfere?!” she said. “You promised me a week ago, but you didn’t pull Danny out. You thought you could just get away with an empty assurance, didn’t you?”  
“Why, Ms. _Manson_ ,” Vlad said, his voice temporarily charming once again. “I do believe it’s called ‘business’. Borrow secrets, exploit opportunities...” He smirked. “Seduce your business rival, even, and merge her company into yours.” He spread his hands and grinned. “How could I resist?”  
  
Sam ground her teeth. “You... ugh!” She glanced towards the door. It was still locked. “What about...”  
  
“Enough, Samantha,” said Vlad. “It’s time for you to experience what it’s like to become a ghost....” He grinned, gesturing at his son. “ _...firsthand.  
_ Daniel, if you would.”  
Danny looked at Sam, and back at his father. He closed his eyes, breathing hard, and didn’t move.  
  
“Daniel. It’s time.”  
Danny still didn’t move. His breath came faster as he forced himself to shake his head.  
  
“Daniel! Kill Ms. Manson, _now,_ or I’ll do it myself!”  
Danny’s eyes flashed open, switching from blue to ghostly green. He charged at Sam, transforming into the black-and-white-suited ghost she’d seen weeks ago.  
Time seemed to slow; Sam could hear what Danny said. Two faint words.  
  
“I’m sorry...”  
  
Then Daniel Masters grabbed Sam Manson, pulling her with him as he ran to the edge of the room and hurled her out the gigantic, plate-glass window.

  
  
It was night again in Amity. Bits of glass fell around Sam as the neon tendrils of the city reached up to claim her. The lights folded around her, every color from red to orange to blue to white to gold, enclosing her as the 55th floor receded; there was wind, rushing from below, becoming faster, louder, mixing with the sounds of traffic and the city.  
She took a breath, as everything blurred forwards...  
  
Then, there was only pure black, an echo of a neon dream.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Manson, Samantha Anne (November 7, 1990 - April 21, 2014)._ **

  
_Samantha ‘Sam’ Manson passed away peacefully on Monday, following an accident while visiting the home of her business partner, Vlad Masters of the Masters Corporation. The heir to the ‘Deli-Toothpick Fortune’, Ms. Manson showed keen business sense by purchasing a small company known as FentonWorks and incorporating it as a R &D lab under her control; with her guidance, the lab was responsible for several discoveries in the field of clean energy that propelled Ms. Manson to the position of one of the richest CEOs in Midwestern America._  
  
 _As stated in her will, control of Eidolon Inc., Ms. Manson’s company, will pass over to Daniel Masters, the son of her business partner. Now that they are owned by the same family, the combined Masters Corporation[s] will now be responsible for more than 30% of the jobs in Amity Park._  
  
 _A celebration of Ms. Manson’s life will be held three days from now, at the synagogue on  34th Street and Elm Avenue.”_  
  
Sam Manson laid the newspaper down and stared at the table.   
“It’s terrible, reading your own obituary,” she said.  
  
— — —  
  
 **Before**  
  
Sam fell, accelerating down the slice of air leading to the streets of Amity. She’d braced herself for the impact with the window; now, she began counting, making sure her thumb was on the display stand’s switch. She’d only get seven seconds.  
  
 _One, skeleton... two, skeleton... three, skeleton... four, skeleton.... **five.**_ She’d fallen halfway; it was now, or not at all.  
Pressing the button, Sam closed her eyes.  
  
The device shivered, sprouting legs from the end of its casing pointing away from Sam. Its lens found the item to display: Sam Manson, CEO of Eidolon Technologies. It took a quarter of a second to calculate the local conditions.   
  
_< <Freefall: impact in 1.5 seconds. Item displayable in 6’ by 2’ by 2’ box when stretched; curl necessitates 6’ by 3’ by 2’ sideways enclosure. Rotate 173º:22º. Manipulator engine online; fragile item necessitates inertial dampening from 90 feet/second. Engaging now.>>_  
  
Before Sam could breathe, the machine cocooned her in a case that looked like glass, stretching out its legs into tripod prongs as it positioned itself for a hard landing.  
  
 _...six, skeleton... sev—_  
There was a **SLAM** , and a dull thump, shaking her. Sam felt as though she’d been hit by a bicycle... but not like she was falling.   
She opened her eyes as she felt the bruises bloom.  
  
Sam was slumped in a glassy case mounted on three sturdy legs, each biting deep into asphalt, cracked from the impact. Everything hurt: her back, her side, her ribs, her neck... but she was alive, and could feel her legs, see the glowing tower above her.  
  
With a little ‘ding!’ a set of lights came on, illuminating the case and Sam, inside it. With a whirr, a label appeared just inside the stand’s front:  
  
 _Sam Manson [bruised]. CEO, Eidolon Technologies._  
  
Tucker, who’d been waiting near the corner of the Tower, ran over to her. “I _knew_ you’d put yourself on a pedestal sooner or later!” he said, grinning.  
  
 _ **“TUCKER!”**_ Sam grunted, gritting her teeth to try and ignore the pain.   
“Let’s get out of here before Vlad comes looking for the body.”  
  
— — —  
  
 **Afterwards**  
 **Undisclosed Location**  
  
Sam looked around the hidden basement. Tucker was there, as was Danny, nervously fidgeting with his business suit. Jasmine had taken a break from supervising the lab to attend. (Jack hadn’t been informed about the meeting, on the grounds of being bad at keeping secrets.)  
  
There was one more person sitting in a chair at the far end; their face was hidden in shadow.  
  
Putting the newspaper aside, Sam slammed a hand down on the table for attention.  
“All right,” she said. “Vlad Masters now thinks I’m dead. He’s started the full takeover of Eidolon, with Danny in charge.” She pointed at Danny, still fidgeting. Even after she’d told him his part in the scene at the Masters Tower— and after she survived it— he was still uncomfortable about having thrown her out of a window.  
“It’s time to beat him at his own game. Everyone knows the basic plan?”  
Four nods.  
  
Sam pointed at Tucker, contentedly taking notes and/or playing games on his phone.  
“Tucker,” she said. “You'll have to spread rumors about the Masters Corporation online. Start small at first— and keep it anonymous."  
  
Tucker nodded. “Piece of cake,” he said, tapping his phone again.  
“I wouldn’t tell you actually hack anywhere,” Sam added, smiling, ”but if you do find anything... _interesting_ , let me know about it, ‘k?”   
Tucker looked up and grinned. “I’ll _definitely_ keep that in mind.”  
  
Sam turned her focus again. “Danny.”   
Danny looked up, taking a breath.  
“You're in charge of handling your father. Just keep me up to date on what he's got in mind and I'll have some false information ready to pass along. Jasmine’ll act as go-between, because it’s not really suspicious if she’s seen talking to you.”  
Danny nodded, a little awkwardly. “U-understood,” he said.  
  
Sam left Danny to his nerves and turned to look at Jack Fenton’s ‘assistant’. “Jasmine. They’re going to come for the lab. When that happens, you have my full authority to to defend it _however_ you see fit. Just don’t let Jack punch holes in the south wall, it’s load-bearing.”  
After a moment, Jasmine’s face turned to purest consternation once she realized the implications of what Sam had just said. “Got it,” she said, slowly, like someone walking on ice. She began to write something down on the notepad she’d brought.  
  
“And you,” said Sam, turning to look at the man at the end of the table. “It’s been a long time.”   
  
His voice was strange; it seemed to twist in mid-sentence, shifting between one accent and another.   
The man’s face was still in shade, but you could _hear_ him as he smiled. “You’re just as beautiful as you were then, Sam.”  
  
Sam didn’t smile. Her face... sharpened. Tucker got an odd look, as well.   
“An-y-way,” Tucker said, after an awkward silence. “You know why you’re here, right?”  
  
“I admit I was not... expecting my past to catch up with me,” said the man, “but it seems I don’t have a choice.” He looked at Sam, affecting an Eastern European accent. “Whatever happened to forgive and forget, my dear?”  
  
Tucker began, “You lost that when—“   
Sam put a hand on Tucker’s arm to shut him up. “Enough,” she said, turning back to the man at the end. “There’s no need to go into what happened before.” That last remark was directed at both the man and Tucker.   
  
“Now,” she continued. “Vlad gave us our chance, but we’ve only got one shot at it. He’s got to think he’s buying some small random company, not getting bought by Eidolon. And for that, we need a CEO. Someone...” Her voice stumbled over a memory. “...amazingly convincing.”  
After taking a breath, Sam looked at the man. “Are you up for the job?”  
  
The man started to move forwards; they could see his smile, this time, first sly and then— friendly, like a light was lit. His Eastern European accent remained intact. “Of course, Sam!” he said. “I believe I can show this ‘Masters’ what I have from my company to offer him.”  
  
The man leaned forwards, revealing a young face framed by a pair of sunglasses and a stylish shock of white hair.   
“Convincing? Is not difficult,” said **Gregor** , smiling his not-quite-friendly smile, his accent now firmly a part of his character.   
“It never is.”  
  
— — —  
  
 **Masters Tower**  
  
Vlad Masters stared down from his lofty perch. The panoramic window was repaired; through it, he could see the workers removing Sam’s purple tree logo from Eidolon, Incorporated.  
He didn’t pay much attention. As he and his son had cemented Sam Manson’s fate, something had been happening deep under the Masters Tower.  
  
He’d checked the camera feeds. They were still acting as if everything were normal _now_ , even after what had happened. But Vlad knew the truth.  
He’d gone down to the secret sub-sub-basement today, to see his wife. Instead, he found... scorch marks on the walls. Missing inventions. Strange devices clamped over the cameras he’d carefully hidden. And a person-sized, machine-bored tunnel leading diagonally upwards to a vacant lot far from the Masters Tower.  
  
Maddie Masters was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

It was night in Amity Park once again. The workers had finished removing Sam’s purple tree logo from the building on Eidolon Hill; soon, the sigil of the Masters Corporation would be installed in its place. Danny had already made himself comfortable in Sam’s office, though he seemed somewhat bemused by the switch under the desk that produced a crash of thunder from the room’s sound system.

So far, Danny had ignored the half-dozen emails from his father about suggestions for layoffs.

Settling back in the tall chair, Danny turned to look out at the stars of Amity Park. He wasn’t sure if this whole... plan... would work, but he had to try. He’d made his choice; now he had to live it.

Danny’s phone rang. He was needed.   
Dozens of floors below, the lab was dealing with its own problems.

* * *

“Please, watch your step, gentlemen,” Jazz said, escorting the two men down the hallway to FentonWorks. Both wore passably fitting suits and the brushed-metal nametags of the Masters Corporation. “Our lab is... _messy_ at the best of times, and you wouldn’t wish to step on anything painful.”

“I don’t know, man,” said the one with the nametag DASH, talking to his partner. “I saw the CEO’s office. She kept a coffin in there! The secretary staff said sometimes, she’d sleep in it!”  
“What?” replied the other one; his nametag read KWAN. “She’s not a vampire, Dash. It’s a big show. She’s setting up an image.”  
“But, the staff said—“  
“What, you think she’s going to rise from the dead or something? _Focus._ ”

Jasmine cleared her throat. “Gentlemen?”  
They had reached the door to Fentonworks, and Dash and Kwan eagerly rushed in.   
“Wooow,” said Kwan, looking over everything with a practiced eye. “What were you _working_ on in here?”  
“I don’t know, but it looks like they’ve got some cool stuff!” Dash responded, living up to his name as he ran deeper into the lab.  
Jasmine took out her watch, mentally counting off seconds. _Five... four... three..._

“Hey, Dash?” Kwan said, as the two pushed aside a shelf of Jack Fenton busts to look at a machine labeled ‘DUPLICATOR’. “Did you feel a chill just now?”  
Dash looked around and shrugged. “Nah. Are you standing under the air conditioner?”

“We don’t use air conditioning here,” Jasmine helpfully supplied. “It could ruin the experiments.” She smiled politely.  
Kwan shook his head a little, then quietly moved to a different part of the lab.

As the two got farther into lab, it became quiet. The back wall of the lab (the Peeler hole had been hastily filled with drywall) now hosted a skyline of file cabinets of increasing sizes.   
“Hey, that must be where they store the info on all their inventions!” said Dash, pointing at the largest cabinet.  
“How did you know?” asked Kwan, missing the label reading INVENTIONS.  
Dash stared at Kwan until he got it.

As the pair approached the cabinet, a rattling sound came from behind them, combined with a plaintive wailing. Dash flinched and turned around, in time to see a set of heavy weights fall from their box.  
 **CRASH!**  
Kwan, who hadn’t turned to look, jumped, and spun just as Dash had. Both let out a breath when they saw what it was.   
Jasmine shrugged, efficiently reshelving everything. “Sorry about that. We’ve had _*cough*_ stability issues ever since the takeover. The CEO was always fond of the lab; she used to come here often... it’s actually a bit empty without her.”

Dash looked at Kwan. “What if the lab’s haunted?!” he said.   
Kwan scowled. “W-we went over this, remember? There’s nothing to worry about. Let’s just do our job and get out of here!” He sounded a little less sure than when he’d entered the room.

The drawers of the big file cabinet were stuck. Jazz thoughtfully provided a pry bar. “I’ll be towards the front if you need me!” she said, gliding away.   
“W-wait—“ Dash said, swallowing the rest of his sentence. What would Jasmine and Kwan think if he said he wanted her to stay to ward off the ghost vampire of Eidolon’s founder?

Kwan pushed Dash towards the cabinet. “C’mon.”   
The cold wind swirled around them again as they wrenched at the prybar. The drawers screeched, buckled, and then—  
 ***SNAP***

Something flew out of the open cabinets, swirling papers, shrieking, looming over the pairs like a night thunderstorm.  
 _“Boo!”_ said Danny, spreading his arms wide.

Dash and Kwan shrieked in unison falsetto, scrambling to their feet and racing for the door.  
Danny smiled. There was something _fun_ about this, he realized; he gleefully watched the backs of the hurriedly retreating men disappear down the hall as fast as their attached legs could take them.   
Time for one last encore.

Danny’s tail flicked mischievously; he bypassed several walls, flew, invisible, in their path again, and grabbed Kwan’s ankle.   
Dash and Kwan began to enact a scene from a horror movie.  
“I-it’s got me! Run! Get out of here!”  
“No way, man! I’m not leaving you behind!” Dash grabbed Kwan’s hand, starting to pull.  
“Save yourself! Do not worry about me!” Kwan tried to wriggle free of both grips.  
Dash pulled harder. “If something happened to you, man, I- I couldn’t go on!”  
“Wait, _what?!”_

Danny rolled his eyes. These two deserved a medal for terrible acting. Releasing the grab, he let the Masters Corporation duo leave the building at top speed.

As they vanished behind the elevator doors, Danny realized he felt good.  
A little harmless scaring... it spoke to the part of him that loved night, the cold and dark and secret places, the hum of buried wires, the claiming of a space (if not outer space itself). He’d noticed it a little while after the accident.  
It felt nice, fun, _right._ Like it was something he should be doing. (Not the only thing he should be doing, of course— he would have gotten worried if that were the case.) Just... like going out and getting some fresh air and sun for his human half, it was an enjoyable experience.

Returning to the lab, Danny faded back into visibility, high-fiving Jasmine. She’d dropped her poker face when Dash and Kwan bailed.   
The ‘assistants’ from the Masters Corporations were gone, and all it had taken was turning up the air-conditioning, and the help of one half-ghost.

Jasmine, along with Danny, smiled.

* * *

A few days after he’d gotten settled in, Danny went to visit Vlad personally.

“Dad?” Danny said. “F-father, I mean.”  
Vlad smiled benevolently over at Danny. Now that Eidolon was under Danny’s control, he was affecting a ‘kindly old CEO’ persona. It was jarring, thinking back to how Vlad had acted that day, just weeks ago.

“Yes?” said Vlad. “What is it?”

Danny took a breath. He couldn’t turn back now.  
“I wanted to ask for your help.” He launched into the spiel he’d practiced.   
“Before Ms. Manson... quit the company,” he said, “she’d been planning to acquire a firm. Eastern European, I think.”

Vlad’s gaze sharpened, focused on Danny. It took self-control not to step back; but his dad had taught him to maintain a poker face, and now was final exam time.   
“Its name’s Lodestein,” Danny continued. “They’re a small research firm.” Was he speaking _too_ smoothly?

Vlad simply said, “And?”  
“And—“ said Danny, trying to remember what was next, “I checked the financials. Jack Fenton’s latest experiment kinda drained the company. I don’t think we’ll be able to acquire anything... at least, not without your help.”

The words ‘Jack Fenton’ had a remarkable effect on Vlad. Outwardly, he controlled himself, but Danny could see the signs. His father’s breathing came quicker. He leaned forward slightly. A dozen other things.  
 _When Sam told me to use that name..._ Danny thought.

“I think if the main Masters Corporation were to acquire Lodestein—“ Danny began, and then Vlad interrupted.  
“—it would be an _excellent_ idea,” Vlad said, making notes in a small book. “I want to meet someone from this ‘Lodestein’. As soon as humanly possible.”

Sitting back in his chair, Vlad smiled.

* * *

Once Danny had left, Vlad called for an assistant.

“Get me everything you can find on a company called ‘Lodestein’. _Everything!_ I want tax records, financials, profiles of the primary directors, whether they had the flu in their offices that year.”

“Uh, right away,” said the assistant, leaving in a hurry.

Vlad settled into the chair at the 55th floor of the Masters Tower. He felt like he could see all the possibilities before him; things were going well, as long as he could make sure that Danny wasn’t being scammed by some posthumous trap laid by Ms. Manson.

It took a night and a day; assistants scoured the Internet for clues, like some monumental school research project. People worked overtime, coming to the Masters Tower from out of bed to form impromptu teams. Someone ordered some cheap catering.   
The hunt was on.

Slowly, the results came in. Long news articles about Lodestein (mostly written in Hungarian). Stock reports. Press releases. Little bits of information that crossreferenced earlier little bits (dated five years ago to boot). Even the odd crank article alleging terrible conspiracies.   
Lodestein looked genuine.

No one had noticed two construction workers, who’d come to just outside the Masters Tower several days ago. They hadn’t done much; set up the inevitable round of brilliant orange signs, then opened the nearest manhole to the tower, dragged in some hardware, and attached it to the building’s primary fiber-optic Internet cable. To the outside, it looked like an ordinary repair.  
Now, it was paying off.

From the building on the hill, from within his mood-lit screen panorama, Tucker watched as the materials he’d made up were inserted into search results, how actual articles had links added to fictitious articles. Cross-referencing those led to further bits of data, planted in more remote locations and seamlessly added to the Masters Corporation’s data stream.

Control someone’s Internet connection, and you could make them believe anything.  
Tucker smiled.

* * *

The sun shone bright on the Masters Tower, nearly gilding it. Despite the brilliance, Vlad ushered the CEO of Lodestein (one Gregor with an unpronounceable last name) into his office.  
“Please,” he said, pulling out a chair. “Sit down, relax.”  
“My thanks,” Gregor said, sitting down. “This is quite brilliant building compared to... how is it?... company head quarter building in Hungary.”   
He looked around the atrium, gaze stopping at the green and yellow across two walls (clashing with the dark wood decor). “Is somewhat strangely decorated, though.”

A brief flicker of annoyance passed over Vlad’s face, but it was replaced with a friendly (?) smile. “Please, Mr. Gregor. _Sit down._ ”

Gregor sat, with a smile just as friendly as Vlad’s.

“Mr. Gregor,” Vlad began. “I understand you and Eidolon Incorporated have been planning a merger?”  
Gregor didn’t directly respond. “Interesting,” he said. “Where in did you hear this?”  
Vlad stalked over to Gregor, throwing a hand around his shoulder. He smiled. “My son! I’m sorry that Ms. Manson, the former CEO of Eidolon, suffered a _most_ unfortunate accident. However, I’m pleased to say that my son Daniel has been granted a golden opportunity by this tragedy.”

Gregor twitched at Vlad’s touch, keeping his face steady. “I am most sorry to hear that. Ms. Manson seemed quite... what is the word? Determination. She was a company I was proud to join with.”  
Gregor ‘didn’t notice’ Vlad’s second flicker of annoyance.

“Yes,” said Vlad, his voice still butter-smooth. “In that case, I’m sure you’ll enjoy joining with the Masters Corporation. We _pride_ ourselves on fair dealing and perserverance.”  
“I... do not understand,” said Gregor, his brow creasing as he watched Vlad walk around him. “Surely Mr.... Daniel will still want a merger?”

“About that,” said Vlad, stopping right behind Gregor’s chair. “I’m sure you’ll understand, but Daniel has suggested that it would be better if the Masters Corporation were to acquire Lodestein.” He smiled. “There will only be a slight change in terms, of course.”

Gregor thought it over. Vlad could see his face struggling with different emotions: worry, stress... fear. Finally, he came to a decision.  
Gregor got up, dodging around Vlad. “Thank you, but I am happy to try to meet with Mr. Daniel and see what he will say.”  
He headed for the door.

_“I know who you are, Gregor.”_  
Gregor froze, his hand nearly on the knob. Vlad hadn’t moved. The man was grinning, like a cat that knew it was about to have a delicious mouse dinner.

“...what?”

“You cheated your way into running a company you don’t know anything about,” said Vlad, taking a step towards Gregor. Then another.  
“And you’re working with my son.”

“I-... I do not know what you mean—“

Vlad kept walking, slowly, forward. “A nice little scam. Find a lackey to take over some small company, somewhere. Inflate “Lodestein”’s valuation and convince me to buy at a ridiculous price. Then— the two of you split the extra money. You disappear, and no one is the wiser.” He smiled. “I’m _almost_ proud of the two of you.”

Vlad didn’t speed up, coming closer and closer to Gregor. “Well done, Daniel, if you’re listening to this,” he added. “Someday, you’ll surpass me in underhanded tactics... but not yet.”  
He’d reached Gregor; now, Vlad looked him right in the eye. “And, just to prove a point, I’ll buy Lodestein... for _pennies._ ”

Vlad put his hand on Gregor’s shoulder, once again acting the friendly old business manager, and led him back to the chair.  
“Now. Where shall we begin?”

~

Sitting in front of Tucker’s bank of monitors, deep in Eidolon Hill, Sam let out a shaky breath. Vlad had bought the fake backstory they’d set up for Gregor— but it had been close.  
Now, though, everything was ready. Tucker had finished with her office, and their legal pitfall for Vlad was primed.

It was time for Sam Manson to come back from the dead.  
Switching off the monitors, Sam smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

“Well done, Mr. Masters,” the lawyer said. “Lodestein is now yours.”  
Vlad stepped back from the table. The signing was taking place in Danny’s office, at the top of Eidolon.  
The office had been hurriedly cleaned up. The decor was merely dark rather than aggressively creepy. The coffin Sam kept around as an affectation had been pushed to one side, and a tablecloth thrown over it. It now hosted a vase of white flowers.  
And, of course, the curtains were thrown open, letting golden sunlight into the room.  
  
Vlad shook hands with Gregor as Danny looked on. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”  
Gregor faked a smile. He tried not to glance at Dash and Kwan, hulking in opposite corners.   
“I... imagine, it will be pleasurable, yes.”   
The lawyer took a copy of the contract and left, shutting the door behind her.  
  
“Mr. Masters,” Gregor added, “Now that we are business partners, there is one small matter I must discuss with you.”  
“What is it?” said Vlad, smiling widely.  
  
“I am not the CEO of Lodestein. I am representative only.”  
“What?” said Vlad. His movements became sharp, snapping.  
“Be calm,” said Gregor, both palms out. “You asked for CEO, yes? Real CEO of Lodestein was very ill at time of your arrival. I was making decisions instead, for a time..”  
Vlad slowly breathed out. “Yes. Well—“  
“However, I am happy to say she is well now, and will be arriving soon to review terms of our merger.” Gregor looked around the room theatrically. “Oh, look! She is here now.”  
“Wh—“  
  
The curtains twitched, then jerked closed by themselves. Shadows grew claws and fangs, looming over the assembly. A whispering surrounded them, as the coffin in the corner began to rattle, then shake violently. The vase crashed to the floor.  
Vlad looked at Gregor, accusingly, but he stared blankly at the coffin.  
  
There was a moan from somewhere, and a single sharp violin chord. The shroud over the coffin flew off in an unseen breeze, and its lid crashed open. A figure rose from within; she wore black, with the merest hint of red... and she had fangs.  
  
“Is that—?”  
“No, it can’t be real— AAAAH!”  
Dash and Kwan ran for the door and wrenched at it, but it wouldn’t move. In desperation, they threw themselves at it, eventually buckling the latch and slamming it open.  
Their footsteps quickly faded down the corridor.  
  
Sam Manson, in full vampire garb, climbed out of her coffin, standing in front of the group.   
“How nice to see you all again,” she said, her gaze scanning the assembly.   
  
“My would-be ‘suitor’,” she said, indicating Vlad with a wave of her hand.  
“My pawn,” she added, staring at Gregor. Vlad gave a start.  
“And, my... rival,” she said, looking primly at Danny. “It’s quite thoughtful of you all to come here...”  
Sam smiled. “Now that you have signed over the Masters Corporation,” she said, pointing at the document on the table, “...to me.”  
  
Dead silence. Then Vlad dove at the remaining copy of the contract, looking it through carefully.  
  
“Oh, it’s all there,” said Sam, mentally counting in her head how much longer it’d take for the lawyer to leave the building. “Lodestein, a quaint little company represented by a quaint little man, purchases the mighty Masters Corporation.”  
Vlad stiffened. He’d just spotted the little clauses, the extra bits of language that twisted the document’s obvious intent.  
“Lodestein’s a subsidiary of Eidolon, of course,” Sam helpfully added.  
  
Sam chose her next words carefully. Enough time had passed. By now, the other copy of the document was gone, in Tucker’s hands and squarely out of the reach of Vlad.  
“In the end, Vlad,” she said, spreading her arms wide, “the better business vampire wo— **OOF!** ”  
Vlad stood over Sam, shaking with rage, one arm in a fist. Sam held an arm over her stomach where he’d punched her.  
“You think you’re clever, orchestrating your survival so you can _laugh_ at me?” Vlad snarled, staring down at Sam. “No. This ends _now!_ ”  
  
And Vlad transformed, black rings swirling around him. Before Sam could recover, Plasmius grabbed her, launching himself at top speed towards— then through— the curtain-covered window.  
  
Glass shards flew everywhere, gleaming in the sudden light like tiny swords. Danny _reacted_ before he thought, bright rings double-timing around him to transform him into Danny Phantom. Now, though, he wore his FentonWorks jumpsuit, with pride.  
He leaped after Sam and his ghostly father.  
  
Sam was caught by Vlad, the half-ghost flying at top speed towards the ground. She couldn’t keep a count this time.  
 _One skelet— no... no!_  
It was too fast. The pavement was closing in at dizzying speed and—  
  
 **POW!**  
  
A blur of motion, and an impact nearly as bad as the last time she’d hit the ground. Sam was moving sideways, then upwards, caught in Danny’s arms.   
Sam took a breath she hadn’t thought she’d see, looking up at him.  
“Danny! Try and get Vlad to the top of the Masters Tower! We got into contact with—“  
The words vanished as Danny dodged an ectoblast with a dizzying hairpin turn.  
  
“You are my _son_ , Daniel!” Vlad roared as he came after the two. “You will listen to me! Now! Hand over the girl!”  
“So you can kill her, ‘Dad’?” Danny yelled back. “You said this was us versus the world. Now I realize it’s _you!_ You’re not... special, you’re just a big, superpowered criminal!”

“Ah, so you have changed sides, after all. I wondered if Ms. Manson had deceived you, but now I know for sure,” said Vlad. He smiled, showing all his teeth.  
“Very well. You’re dead to me, Daniel. _Starting today!!_ ”

He charged.


	10. Finale

Danny wheeled in the air, but Vlad was getting closer. His father wasn’t yelling at him any more— instead, he fired ectoblasts left and right, trying to hit Sam.  
He was gaining, too— Danny couldn’t fly as fast with an extra person under one arm.  
The Masters Tower was close, fortunately. Danny dived around a corner of the building, betting Vlad wouldn’t risk hitting his shiny tower.   
He was wrong. A bolt of energy punched a hole through the recently repaired panoramic window.

Danny looped in the air; Sam had her eyes closed, and she was looking paler than usual. Vlad came around the corner just as Danny turned himself intangible, flying _into_ the heart of the Tower itself. He knew what he was looking for. Now...  
Danny released the intangibility as he flew into the elevator car. Dropping Sam on the floor, he slapped the ‘1’ button, phasing out as the car began to move. Vlad, who’d followed Danny, flew after him, blinking through the empty elevator shaft after he chased after his son.  
Sam was safe.   
After a few moments, she turned to face the floor of the car, and threw up.

 

Danny shot out of the Masters Tower, reversing and firing an ectoblast down to clip Vlad as he showed up. Vlad roared and chased after Danny; they landed on the slick roof, scrambling into an open space.  
Vlad roared like a demon, charging at Danny. Danny barely dodged; he fired another ectoblast at Vlad, but it only made his dad angrier. Curving his charge, he slammed Danny into an air conditioning unit, hard enough to bend metal.   
“No more, Daniel. You may have changed, but I’ll _fix_ you—“

Danny gritted his teeth and _shoved_ upwards, loosing dual ectoblasts into Vlad, throwing him across the rooftop.  
“Stop trying to think you can just make everything like you want again! I’m not your pawn any more!”  
Vlad landed on his feet, glaring at Danny. “My pawn? You were never my pawn! You are my _son_ , and you will live up to that _whether you like it or not!_ ”  
He threw a ball of light at Danny; Danny shielded himself just before it exploded, leaving a crater in the roof that gently steamed.  
“I’ll do better than that!” Danny yelled back. “I’ll run this place _better_ than you! Nothing stolen! No one gets hurt! And you can go fly off into our portal like the _murderous freak you are!_ ”

Vlad’s eyes flamed a furious red. “Daniel...” he said, softly, before yelling as loud as he could. “I... am no less... of a ‘freak’, **THAN YOU!!** ”  
He charged again, matching Danny’s dodge and slamming into the ghost boy. Danny tried a shield; Vlad shattered it with one clawed fist, grabbing his son around the neck and lifting him in the air. With his other hand, he sliced open Danny’s jumpsuit, plunging inside Danny’s form to try and grab his core.

From his hiding place on the far corner of the roof, Tucker saw Vlad rummaging inside Danny through his binoculars. He thumbed the walkie-talkie in his other hand.  
“Vlad’s distracted! Now now now now now!”

From behind a spire, the woman heard Tucker’s voice. She lifted the rifle she held, aiming the crosshairs squarely on the forms of Vlad and Danny Masters; she fired.  
The dart flew through the air, shedding its outer casing in flight. A slim shard held its course, the sunlit air speeding its course as it hit Plasmius’s head.  
With a flare of light, Vlad was forced out of ghost form, falling to the ground as he unbalanced. Danny recovered, turned intangible; the second dart hit him in the shoulder... and bounced, as what was left of his Fenton Jumpsuit repelled the weapon.

Danny flipped back, drifting away as Maddie Masters stepped out of the shadow where she’d been hiding, stalking towards Vlad, letting him see who was responsible.  
Tucker followed her, watching Mr. Masters as he lay, dazed.  
The roof door opened; Sam (a bit vomit-stained, but not much worse for wear) walked out, standing over Vlad, smiling down at him.  
“Vlad. From one ‘corporate vampire’ to another? You suck.“  
It was over.

* * *

_“Correction: We previously published the obituary for Ms. Samantha Manson, CEO of Eidolon Inc. This was in error. Ms. Manson suffered a brief illness and has since recovered.  
Mr. Daniel Masters has not taken over from Ms. Manson as the CEO of Eidolon Inc.; he has succeeded his father, Mr. Vlad Masters, as the head of his father’s company, the Masters Corporation. The two entities **have** merged, with the Masters Corporation as a subsidiary of Eidolon, Inc; no further changes in management or structure are expected._

_We apologize for any confusion our previous report may have caused.”_

* * *

Danny and Sam smiled at each other as they rode the elevator. With Maddie’s dart permanently lodged in Vlad’s skull, he wouldn’t be using ghost powers any time soon. Without them... all his threats no longer mattered.  
Today was going to be a quick visit. The elevator dinged as the doors shifted.

“Hello, Vlad,” said Sam, as she and Danny walked inside his office. ‘Office’ was something of a misnomer. Vlad wasn’t making any decisions anymore; it was just somewhere for him to stay.  
“What do _you_ want?” said Vlad, glaring at them both.  
“Just a quick note,” Sam said, looking at Danny. He was carrying a familiar plush folder with golden letters. “Now that I own the Masters Corporation, there’s been a slight change to the dress code.”  
Keeping a straight face, Danny passed Vlad the folder. Sam quickly backed out of the office, pulling Danny with her.

They were almost to the elevator when they heard the shout.  
 _ **“BLACK EYELINER??!?!?!”**_

* * *

Once Vlad was sure Sam and Danny were gone, he left his desk, muttering under his breath.   
“Black eyeliner. Ha! Those little... no. They won’t beat me in the end.”  
He headed down a corridor, following a route only he knew. His first stop was the basement; from there, he went to his secret elevator, keying in a different set of commands from his usual codes.   
When the doors opened, Vlad smiled as he looked upon what the room contained.

There were vats. There were dozens of sealed vats, most glowing as they were lit from within. Each was tagged with a number or letter, their contents each the size of a person.  
Vlad walked past the first two, their curved glass containing things he didn’t care to look upon. The third had no light; it was empty, and the tank was drained.  
Finally, he settled on the fourth, tagged only with the letter, **“D”**.

Clapping his hands together, Vlad began to work, verifying that Danny’s newest memories had been recorded, edited, and downloaded into the mind of the owner of the tank.   
Once he was sure everything was ready, he pressed RELEASE, looking up at her; she floated there, nude, in the vat’s slime... a woman.  
23 years old. Black hair. Her eyelids were open, revealing eyes of crystalline blue.

The vat shuddered. Its glass parted, and pulled away; the tank’s fluid deluged Vlad as the woman tumbled out. Landing on the floor, she breathed in, gasping the room’s filtered air.  
Seeing her awake, Vlad pulled her to him in a hug, ignoring the slime that covered his clothes.

“Daddy’s here, sweetheart,” he said, holding the girl to him as she breathed air for the first ever time.  
“Daddy’s here.”

**THE END?**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maaaan. It’s been one heck of a ride. Thanks to everyone who’s followed my first ever DP fic. In particular, special thanks to scrollingdown, for unceasing effort and advice, and to all those in the Phandom Chat on Skype.
> 
> Thank you, and good night.  
> —Faux


End file.
